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by pinkdrinksandmusic



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2020-04-23 06:46:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19145692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkdrinksandmusic/pseuds/pinkdrinksandmusic
Summary: Laurent reached up and touched the pin at his shoulder absently, fingers tracing over the design.Vere and his family were no longer his top priority. He had been traded off to a new country and family and he would be expected to put them first.He wasn’t a shining star, like his brother. He was a lion, like his husband.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be a long one-shot, but I decided to post it in parts. I'm hoping to have it done in 3 parts, but it may go up to 5. Also, there are no slaves or the Regent in this fic. I don't wanna deal with that mess lol. There's already enough to write about without it.
> 
> This fic was inspired by the beginning of the movie Marie Antoinette.

Laurent bit down the discomfort of the hands on him, removing his Veretian clothes. He’d had servants unlace him before, but he always finished undressing completely on his own. He was private with his body and didn’t encourage or invite others to share his personal space.

Today, he endured it.

He was completely bare for only a few seconds, then he was being wrapped in plain white fabric, held together by a pin with a lion on it, then wrapped a little more with a deep red.

His husband’s color.

He made sure to keep his eyes straight ahead and neutral, but he wondered if he would ever wear his dark blue Veretian clothing again. Servants had cleaned out everything from his rooms before he left Arles. He wasn’t allowed to take anything with him to Ios. Not his books, his clothes, not even his horse. He had to leave everything Veretian behind.

He had to leave Vere behind.

It was as if they were trying to erase the existence of Laurent of Vere, second in line for the throne. Now he was the husband of Damianos, crowned prince of Akielos. Nothing more.

They were about to leave Marlas, the last remaining part of him that was Veretian having just been stripped from him. Bitterly, he wondered if he’d even be allowed to speak Veretian in the palace of Ios. He had been trained to speak proper Akielon since the engagement was announced five years ago, when he was sixteen. Since then, his life revolved around learning as much about Akielos as possible, to prepare him for his future life.

He hadn’t seen Damianos during that time. He had only seen him, briefly, when their fathers were negotiating peace. His own father was the one who noted Damianos’ taste in partners. The coloring of them. Theomedes caught on quickly, and a marriage between their two youngest sons was arranged.

That was what Laurent had been reduced to, in the end, by his father.

He didn’t complain. This was politics. Marriage wasn’t about joy or love with royals. It was about alliances and advantages. This was part of his job as the second son. He was a bargaining piece. He went where his father placed him, wherever he decided Laurent would be most helpful.

That was who he was. What he was.

After the servants were done dressing him, they bowed and left. Their eyes had been over his shoulder as they did so and Laurent turned to see his brother walking toward him.

“You look good,” Auguste said, but there was strain in his voice, as if he didn’t truly think so.

“I look Akielon.”

“Yes.” He stopped in front of Laurent. He had offered Laurent as much comfort as was appropriate over the years, almost diplomatic in it. He often said the same thing he said just then, “Two countries will be at peace for the first time in a long time because of your union with Damianos.”

Laurent nodded. He often returned the objective comment with an equally emotionally detached reply, but he couldn’t think of one, just then. Auguste didn’t wait for him to formulate a response, grabbing Laurent by the shoulder and pulling him into a hug. 

His brother didn’t hug him often as an adult. Laurent rarely ever let anyone hold him, no one outside of his family. It wasn’t Veretian custom to hug as a form of greeting or goodbye or just because. It was something mostly done for children or between lovers, or to comfort someone close to you who was grieving, or saying a long farewell, not knowing if or when you’d see them again. Laurent hadn’t been a child in years, had never taken a lover, and couldn’t remember the last time he’d been held.

So when his brother’s arms came around him, his heart ached. He wasn’t hugging Laurent just because, or as a goodbye, see you tomorrow. He was hugging him in a long farewell, because neither of them knew when they’d see each other again.

_When will I see you? Will you visit Akielos soon? When can I come home?_

His heart ached fiercely when his last thought was followed by, _Arles is no longer my home._

When Auguste pulled away, he asked, “So, how does wearing a bed sheet feel like?”

“Breezy. Akielons don’t wear undergarments.”

“How scandalous. I might have to drop that piece of information on a boring day in court. It’ll be sure to spark a lot of gossip and newfound theories.”

“You hate gossip,” Laurent said.

“Yeah, that’s more your style.” A slight pause, and then, “Court will be boring without you, brother. I hope the Akielon court will appreciate your particular charm.”

Before he could respond, Laurent saw a servant walking toward them, probably to fetch him. The ache in his heart intensified momentarily, and he wanted to hug his brother again, but didn’t.

“Your highness, they’re waiting for you,” the servant said with a bowed head, eyes to the ground.  

Auguste gave him a pat on the back and stepped away. Laurent’s hands remained useless at his side and he regretted not returning the hug. There was nothing he could do about it now.

It was time to leave and start his new life.

 

 

He got into a carriage with Damianos, with only the two of them inside. Privacy for the newlyweds. He had ridden to Marlas with Auguste and a few other men from the Veretian court. They played card games and told stories and jokes and slept only to wake with aching limbs. He remembered Auguste laughing and shoving his friends’ legs off his lap when they tried to stretch them, not having enough room to do so without putting their feet in someone’s space. Luckily no one put their feet on Laurent, the men respecting his need for space as much as the carriage allowed.

There was a short time when the men had fallen asleep and only Laurent and Auguste were awake. At first they sat in silence, but then Auguste broached the subject of his impending marriage, just briefly.

 _“Hard to imagine the boy who said he’d be satisfied with only his books is getting married before me,”_ Auguste had said with fake humor in his eyes. Laurent used to think that maybe Auguste pitied him for having no say in his spouse, but it was deeper than that. Auguste held prejudice against Akielons. The idea of sending off a family member to be wed to one no doubt turned his stomach. He still thought of them as the enemy.

Laurent remembered the game they played when he was a child. A game where they killed every Akielon and restored the old empire.

Now he sat next to Damianos in a simple carriage that lacked the intricate designs of a Veretian one. The inside wasn’t cloaked in royal blue with gold designs and blue cushions. Everything was plain and bare. Laurent didn’t dislike it, but he didn’t feel much of anything in that moment. It was strange to feel his bare legs against the cushion. The chiton was shorter sitting down. It was foreign, everything was, but it wouldn’t be forever. He would assimilate soon enough. He had to.

He looked out of the window and he could see the Veretians, all the people he grew up with, leaving in the opposite direction. The starburst banner faded in the distance and Laurent wondered when he’d next see it. There was no guarantee he’d ever see it again. It wasn’t unheard of for people who have been married off to never see home again.

It didn’t matter. That wasn’t his crest anymore.

He wouldn’t – _couldn’t_ linger on that with Damianos seated next to him. If ever.

His fingers reached up and touched the pin at his shoulder absently, fingers tracing over the design.

Vere and his family were no longer his top priority. He had been traded off to a new country and a new family and he would be expected to put them first.

He wasn’t a shining star, like his brother. He was a lion, like his husband.

 

 

During the travel to Ios, Damianos asked him pointless and needling questions. Laurent hated small talk and he wasn’t in the mood to humor him, so he gave one worded answers.

“Have you ever been cliff diving before?”

“No.”

“Do you know how to swim?”

“No.”

“I used to dive off those cliffs as a boy,” Damianos nodded to the view of cliffs out of the window, but Laurent only glanced in the direction of it. He knew what Damianos was doing and had expected it, but he just wasn’t in the mood. He had left behind the only home he’d known, the only family he’d known, the only country he’d known. He had lost it all in one day. He‘d known it was going to happen, but was still unprepared for it.

Damianos, he came to quickly understand, was a social person and didn’t care for long silences. Laurent would listen, but he just didn’t have the emotional energy to fully take part and add to it. He wanted to lose himself in work or a book, or just retire for the day.

After an hour or so of blissful silence where he was left alone with this thoughts, Damianos said, “We’re home.”

‘Home’ was a palace so unlike the one he grew up in he didn’t know how to feel, other than like an outsider.

There was a beauty to it, he had to admit. The simplicity of it. White marble pillars that he had only ever seen in pictures, for that style of architecture didn’t exist in Vere, especially in the north. There was an openness about it as well, so that he would have a clear view of the sea.

When the carriage stopped, Damianos got out first and held his hand out for Laurent to take. Knowing it wouldn’t be wise to refuse, he didn’t hesitate to accept, allowing Damianos to guide him out of the carriage.

They were greeted by a man who bowed in greeting. He spoke to them a bit while they walked into the palace, informing them that there was to be a feast in celebration of Laurent’s arrival. After delivering the news, Damianos dismissed him and led Laurent to the rooms they would share.

The first thing he noted was that they were bigger than his rooms back at Arles, the perk of being the crown prince rather than the spare. He had his own bedroom and there were two doors to it. One that was connected to Damianos’ bedroom, no doubt in case Damianos desired or had need of him, and the other leading out into the sitting room, where there were couches, a low wooden table, and a fireplace. It would make for a perfect reading spot.

The rooms were indeed open to the sea and Laurent could see why Akielons dressed the way they did. His Veretian clothing would have been suffocating in Ios. It wasn’t only that it was hot, it was humid. Even in his chiton he felt sticky and uncomfortable.

“Is it this humid all the time?” he asked with a sour expression. Damianos had stayed near the entrance, observing Laurent as he walked toward the balcony. At his question, Damianos came to stand beside him and opened the doors to the balcony. It didn’t help make things feel less muggy.

“Not all the time, but often enough. Ios has a hot climate and is surrounded by water.” After seeing Laurent’s expression, Damianos added, “The sea provides relief when needed, cool bathes to relax in, and there are other ways to help as well, such as cold cloths.”

Laurent nodded stiffly and, not knowing what else to say, gave a quick, “Thank you.” Then walked past the doors and onto the balcony they had to themselves. He could easily admit to himself that the view of the sparkling sea was spectacular. He took a deep, calming breath, and enjoyed a cool breeze that briefly passed by. When he turned, he saw Damianos observing him again.

He ignored him and walked to his room from the sitting room.

It was absolutely nothing like his room back in Arles. It was bare of personality. There was a closet and a wide bed with no canopy. The sheets were much thinner than his other bed, and there was no fur. He wondered if Damianos’ bedroom would look any different. Did he have personal items? Favorite books? A childhood toy? He wasn’t sure if he would ever know. If Damianos had need of him, he would probably come to Laurent’s room.

They still had to consummate their marriage.

They tried to have sex after the wedding ceremony, back at Marlas, but Laurent had difficulty getting and staying aroused, which dispensed Damianos’ own interest. In the end, they didn’t go through with it. He knew it was something they’d have to do eventually. It was part of his duty, but Damianos didn’t force it right then. Instead, he pulled away and asked, _“You don’t want it?”_

It had been a frustrating question that Laurent had a hard time not snapping back in answer. Instead, he simply said, _“What does it matter? Just do it.”_

Damianos had frowned, probably in disappointment, which Laurent hated him for. He attempted to talk to him more, as if to comfort or sooth him, or maybe ease him into it better, but Laurent didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. He just wanted to get it over with. Eventually, Damianos gave up on talking to him and turned away, sleeping with his back turned to him. Even though Damianos stayed in the bed, it felt empty and cold, as Laurent turned on his own side, away from Damianos, and stared at the blank wall.

All they had done that night was kiss, it was what got Laurent aroused in the first place, quickly realizing he liked it. But once Damianos pulled away to go forward, his interest waned.

He just…he couldn’t get out of his head. When Damianos was kissing him, his thoughts quieted, but when he pulled away to undress, they came back, then went away as they kissed again, then came back when his own clothes were removed. Back and forth, his mind unable to focus on what he was supposed to be doing.

No one knew they hadn’t consummated their marriage. A flaw in Akielon culture. In Vere, crowned royalty consummated their marriage in front of the council, to ensure its legitimacy. In Akielos, it was just assumed.

Another thing he noted was that his new room was smaller than the one he had in Arles, despite every other room being bigger. Even the door, both the one leading to Damianos’ room and the one leading to the sitting room were single. His bedroom doors in Arles were like Damianos’, two large double doors. He had no doubt that Damianos’ bedroom was twice the size of his.

It reinforced the idea that coming here as the crowned prince’s spouse was a demotion.

“Is it to your liking?”

“It lacks anything of mine. I wasn’t allowed to bring anything from my home in Vere.”

“This is your home now. You’ll be given new things to fill your room with.”

“I don’t suppose you have Veretian literature in Akielos,” Laurent said.

“Akielos has many great writers. Have you read any?”

“Of course I have.” Laurent turned to face his husband. “I’ve read your classics, most of them. Your poetry, your songs, your epics…it was included in my education after our engagement. My father didn’t hire lazy teachers and I don’t half ass anything.”

Damianos’ eyebrows rose. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

“You haven’t.” They stood there in a tense silence. Laurent didn’t have the most experience when it came to dealing with people, so he had no idea how to approach his husband. He didn’t know how to talk to him, to be with him, he didn’t even know how to let himself be fucked by him.

“I have things to see to. If you need anything, the servants will attend you.”

“Thank you.”

And then, finally, he was alone.

A curious part of him wanted to peek inside of Damianos’ bedroom, to snoop. He pushed the idea away for a later date and instead left their rooms and told a servant to direct him to the library.

 

 

When Laurent joined the table for dinner, seated at Damianos’ side.

“Did you find your way to the library,” Damianos asked as he sat.

“Yes. You have a good collection.”

“Good?” Damianos almost snorted and Laurent almost rolled his eyes. “It’s the best in the country.”

“Indeed.”

Damianos frowned, but then his expression became pleasant again as he gestured to the man sitting across from them.

“I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting my brother, Kastor.”

Kastor looked like Damianos’ father, and he supposed Damianos, if at a glance. If you let your eyes linger for more than a glance, they didn’t look too much like each other. Perhaps it was because they were only half siblings, though Damianos, Laurent noticed, didn’t gain as much of his features from his father as his brother, specifically in the face. Damianos was also much taller and broader than both his father and his brother as well. He wondered what his mother looked like and if Damianos took more after that side of the family.

“No, he wasn’t at our wedding,” Laurent said as his eyes passed over his new brother-in-law. At the mention of the wedding, Kastor’s returning smile became tight in clear offense, but it was just the way things were. As a bastard, he wouldn’t have been welcomed at a wedding that included Veretian royalty.

Now that he was in Akielos, Kastor wouldn’t be hidden from him anymore and he had to treat him as if he were a true born man.

“A pleasure,” Kastor said, his tone saying otherwise.

Being a Veretian prince, he had never shared company with a bastard before. His father didn’t have warm feelings for them. Laurent hadn’t honestly thought much about them, had never had a reason to. Faced with Kastor, he felt nothing but mild curiosity. His brother had never spoken to him about bastards before. He wondered if Auguste felt the same as his father.

Either way, it didn’t matter much. He would see Kastor in public on occasions, during dinners and sports, but no more. He didn’t know much about him and didn’t really care to, even though he was his husband’s brother.

 _He probably resents him_ , Laurent thought. _He had the crown, but then Damianos was born and he was demoted._

Throughout all of dinner, Kastor didn’t pay Damianos much attention unless Damianos spoke to him. He wouldn’t ignore his future king in the presence of their current one.

“Of course you’d be set up with a man exactly your type, if only we could all be as _lucky_ as you,” Kastor said to Damianos after other people at the table congratulated him on a good match. Kastor’s voice seemed full of good humor, but his jaw was tense and his smile didn’t reach his eyes. The way he said the last part was a subtle jab and a show of his bitterness that he tried to cover.

Damianos, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious and took Kastor’s words and forced, fake smiles at face value. It shouldn’t surprise him, since Theomedes seemed to be in the same boat with not being able to see his bastard as he was, an angry child who was forced to give his favorite toy to his younger sibling and resented him for it.

Speaking of Theomedes, he noticed that there was a different tone to which he addressed both sons. With Kastor, his conversations at the table were personal, but with Damianos, it was all business. It made sense, when he thought about it. Kastor was Theomedes’ love child, and Damianos his obligation child.

It showed in little ways Laurent picked up on. When Theomedes looked to Kastor, he looked at him with nothing but love in his eyes. Not just for him, but more. It was as if he was seeing his mistress, the woman he truly loved, in Kastor.

When he looked to Damianos, there was pride, but it was almost like the kind of pride a teacher would show their apprentice. Damianos was the man Theomedes was training to take over his job as the King. It was as if their relationship was heavily business rather than personal, at least on Theomedes end. Damianos was a different story. He clearly wanted his father’s approval and to be the kind of son his father would be proud of. He wondered if the reason why he worked so hard was because of this, or maybe it was just drilled into him to be that way.

Either way, Damianos didn’t seem particularly bothered by it, if he even noticed.

“Have you settled in,” Theomedes asked, turning his attention from his sons to him.

“Yes, I look forward to the entertainments tonight.”

“Vere is well known for its performance art, especially the dancers and circus tricks, but here in Akielos we like things simple and restrained. Our performers will play and sing lovely songs and perform poetry,” a woman whose name he’d yet to learn said. Laurent knew that Akielos prized its poets and songwriters. They especially favored their epic poems, which they sometimes acted out as plays.

“I’ve read Akielon literature, but I’ve yet to experience any of it performed. I’m looking forward to that changing tonight,” he said politely, but he meant it. He’d always had a fondness for the arts and had seen every Veretian classic he’d read and loved acted out, but none of the Akielon stories he found himself re-reading when the sun set and he was alone in his room.

This seemed to perk Damianos’ attention, as he turned to him and asked, “I’d meant to ask, are you familiar with _The Fall of Inachtos_?”

Laurent had to once again stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Of course. I was told it was your favorite.”

Laurent didn’t mention that he himself didn’t care for it. Instead he took a polite drink from his water, signaling that he had nothing more to say.

Damianos looked pleased enough that he simply knew it, not considering he might not have liked it.

In the end, the poems and songs performed were all about battle and glory. Laurent was disappointed, but not surprised. All of his poems had been the ones about adventure and wit and great emotion. The song of a group of women from Isthima sailing father into the Ellosean Sea than anyone ever had. They discovered a new species of fish, a huge fish that was longer than the tallest Akielon man. It curiously nosed around their ship and saved them from a sea beast. There were also many songs and poems about the beauty of the deep dark sea full of mysteries no one knew, but speculated. As well as songs and poems that connected emotions to the water, making for a melancholy piece. Laurent found himself enjoying every single one of them.

He would have even preferred poems of Akielon gods. They were sometimes mentioned in their literature, but never with any presence. The old gods of the country were treated as an afterthought, something buried in their history that no one paid much mind to anymore.

Still, he complimented the performance and showed polite interest. The performers still did a wonderful job, worthy of praise.

After the entertainments had finished, there was mingling among people of the court. A musician played the kithara, but it was soft and unobtrusive, meant merely as background noise. Laurent knew he should get to know the people of the court, but the last thing he wanted to do was make idle chatter.

He leaned in close to Damianos, catching him by surprise. His eyes immediately went down to Laurent’s mouth, dark with interest.

“I’m going to retire early.”

He pulled away and stood.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” he said to Theomedes.

Theomedes nodded in acknowledgement, then returned to his conversation with an older gentlemen. Laurent left and returned to his chambers alone, to his mild surprise. He’d thought Damianos would have followed him. He knew what it would look like. Two newlyweds eager to bed each other again…and again and again.

That didn’t happen.

As he went to his room and undressed, he wondered if Damianos had stayed back to make excuses for him. Or perhaps, being the social butterfly he was, he simply wished to be among his people for a bit longer.

Would he come back later in the night, expecting to bed him?

Laurent lay in bed thinking about it. This time, he thought, he would go through with it. He didn’t like the idea of their marriage remaining unconsummated, unofficial.

Whether Damianos wanted him that night would remain unanswered. Laurent fell asleep long before he returned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damen and Laurent aren’t in love yet, so Damen’s still a bit of a fuckboi (it won’t last). Consider this a warning I guess? Also lol at me thinking I could finish this in 3 parts. We’re looking at 7 instead. Probably.
> 
> Thank you for the the comments on the last chapter. I enjoyed reading them all and used them as motivation.

Laurent woke up to women giggling outside of his bedchamber.

A little more than three weeks had passed since he’d come to Ios. At the end of the first week, Damianos had started taking women to bed.

At first, Laurent had felt offended. He thought that Damianos was insulting him. He also worried over what people would think, but it ended up not being necessary. No one mentioned Damianos’ conquests and nothing came of it. He didn’t know who the women were that Damianos was even bedding. He sometimes caught glimpses in the morning when they left, and a lot of them were of a light complexion…like him.

This didn’t come as news. Laurent had always known he was his husband’s type. It was why his father had thought to arrange for them to be married in the first place. 

Laurent kept waiting for the day when Damianos would enter his bedroom to take him, knowing that their union would happen in his bed. Damianos’ own bed was for him and his apparent whores. It never happened. Eventually Laurent stopped looking toward the door that connected their rooms and just went to sleep.

He didn’t know what to think about it, but he at least knew how he did and didn’t feel. On the nights Laurent could hear the unmistakable sound of fucking through the walls, his heart felt nothing. It was just an annoyance, something loud keeping him from sleep.

Often, he could tell that the moans came from a woman, sometimes more than one at a time, and Laurent just hoped Damianos wouldn’t shame him with a bastard. He banished the thought as soon as it came. That thought was Veretian.

Yet some things were so deeply rooted in him that he had a hard time removing them. The Veretian in him felt that Damianos fucking women in the room next to him was an insult, a sign of disrespect, but at least his heart wasn’t broken.

He got out of bed and dressed. He had gotten used to chitons and admitted that there were some positives to them. Firstly, it was appropriate for the heat, secondly, it was simple to put on and remove, meaning that he didn’t have to ask for assistance. With certain Veretian clothing, the laces on his outer garments were hard to reach or loosen on his own and he’d need a servant to attend him. He hadn’t had anyone attend him in Akielos.

When he was done the giggling women were gone. Laurent was grateful Damianos didn’t parade his bed partners in front of him, that he had that much respect for him at least.

As he left the room without encountering Damianos, he thought of his parents.

His parents were faithful to each other. His father naturally had no mistress or male lover, nor did his mother, nor did they take pets, as far as he knew. Their marriage had been arranged, but they had taken the time to know each other and grew to love and respect each other.

As a child…

He banished the thought before it came.

He wasn’t married to a Veretian noble. He was married to the crowned prince of Akielos. Here, men of nobility could take a mistress. Damianos’ own father had one, and his love for his mistress was known and respected by the people of Akielos. It was perhaps inevitable that Damianos eventually find one as well. Laurent had no desire for a mistress himself.

_In the end, brother, I will have my books and you will one day have your heirs, just as I said._

 

 

Laurent preferred daytime. For the most part he could find something to busy himself with so that he didn’t think of home or his loveless, empty marriage.

On his second day in Ios, he had gotten to work. Immediately he went about becoming acquainted with Damianos’ household, now his household as well. In Vere, he had made a point to do this as well. He got to know the head of the household, who ended up being the same man who greeted them when they arrived. His name was Galene, a middle aged man who kept Damianos’ house in order and saw to things.

It was to Galene Laurent said, _“If a letter arrives from Vere, I wish to be notified immediately.”_

_“Of course, Your Highness.”_

He also got to know the names of the servants and guards and if they had any complaints or concerns. They didn’t. Damianos was a fair man and made sure his people were properly treated. Any mistreatment of his household was seen as a direct offense to Damianos himself, and no one wanted to get on his bad side.

Except his brother, perhaps, but he put a lid on that thought. For now.

After his first day in Ios, Damianos didn’t seem interested in seeking him out. It perhaps wasn’t in his nature to look for unwilling company when he had so many who were far happier to be with him. Damianos was a social creature in a way that Laurent never would be. Damianos had the face of a man who lived a thoughtless but contented life. He had many friends, never lacking for someone to talk to, and a long line of people hoping for him to bed them, and he probably would.

While Damianos went about that, Laurent found his way to the stables. He had no horse to call his own, yet, but there were horses made available for him to ride. He’d taken to go for rides in the morning, usually before Damianos woke up. Damianos, he learned, enjoyed lounging in bed when he had someone to share it with.

He had just finished his morning ride and was currently in the library after checking to see if there were any letters from Vere. There weren’t.

Upon entering the library, he noticed that there was one other there as well, to his surprise. Usually the library was bare outside of servants, especially early in the day.

“Hello,” the man said. Laurent had been in the palace long enough to recognize him. Adonis, the son of a nobleman who was a member of Theomedes’ court. He was twenty two, handsome and well built, a soldier who had helped take care of an attack on a few villages near the border alongside Damianos when Laurent was still in Vere four years ago.

Laurent took note of the book of poems in his hand.

“Love poems?”

His cheeks lightly pinked. “They’re admittedly my favorite.”

“Not the battle songs?”

“Those are good too. Certainly my father’s favorite.”

_They would be my father’s favorite as well._

“How are you enjoying Ios?”

“I don’t know. I’ve yet to see it much beyond the walls,” Laurent said as he walked along the isles, looking for a new book to read.

“I saw you riding earlier, do you enjoy it?”

“Yes, although Ios isn’t good for long rides,” Laurent said simply. In Arles, there had been more room to take his horse. No cliffs, the ground flat, and the forest was so close, he remembered the paths made for riding, how he had enjoyed exploring as far as he could... Ios was uneven ground, build on high limestone cliffs, at the very top, and a capitol city crammed full of people. There were some paths within the palace walls for him to ride, but they didn’t go far, and there was no great forest for him to explore.

It was far from ideal. He would have to leave the city to go for a good ride, but he enjoyed the horses. The way they pushed their noses against him, stroking their necks, and feeding them from his hand. It was the only familiar thing.

“Have you explored the shoreline yet? There are steps leading down to them at the back of palace.”

“I haven’t made it down there yet, but soon.”

“Do you know how to swim?”

 Laurent had lost count to how many times he’d been asked this.

“No. Arles is nowhere near as close to the sea as here.”

“You should ask Damianos to teach you. He often likes to spend his time in or near the water. Or if he’s too busy, I can show you.”

Laurent paused, turning the offer over in his head and deciding it was a harmless offer. Adonis wasn’t looking at him the way men who courted him did, or even as Damianos did.

“Thank you, I’ll keep your offer in mind. For now, I think I’m going to return to my chambers and read,” he said as he found his new book.

Adonis peeked at the cover and said, “Oh, I haven’t read that one yet. Let me know how it is.”

Laurent nodded to the book of poems, “You as well.”

 

 

When Laurent returned to his rooms, it wasn’t the couch that he went to, or any of the other many rooms that he was now acquainted with. Instead he went to the balcony. He never tired of the view: blue waters, cliffs, and the white city. He wasn’t yet used to it, his breath sometimes still catching at the beauty of it, coming to appreciate it more by the day.

The balcony had an awning to protect his skin from the sun. His shoulders were pink, but not yet a painful red.

He sat down at the chair, enjoying the scent of the sea, and looked over. The balcony stretched over to Damianos’ bedchamber. Laurent himself didn’t have access to the balcony from his bedchamber, or any windows at all, so that it felt almost suffocating to be in there. He used the room for sleep and nothing else.

He hadn’t ever peeked in to Damianos’ bedroom, yet every now and then curiosity spiked back up.

Before it could come this time, he heard footsteps behind him and turned around to find Damianos at the entrance. He noticed the book in Laurent’s lap and said, “An interesting pick. Have you ever been sailing?”

The book, like a lot of Akielon literature, involved the sea. It also involved the defeat of some great serpent that had once been a woman while aboard a ship. Laurent didn’t know much beyond that.

“I haven’t. You’ll have to take me sometime.”

“Alright,” Damianos said and then came to sit next to him, on the spare chair at the round table. “I’m told you often ask if letters have arrived for you. Are you waiting for something?”

“Not in particular,” he said. It was a half truth. He didn’t know for certain if or when anything would come for him, but there was a childish hope that one day he’d wake up to a letter from home. He missed Vere and longed for news of his family, specifically from them. Yet he’d heard nothing.

“I’ve also been told you tried to send out a letter once, but then changed your mind last minute.” Laurent met Damianos’ questioning gaze with a neutral expression, his lips a firm line.

“I’d written to my brother,” he said, not wanting to inspire suspicion by keeping secrets when it wasn’t necessary, “but then decided against it.”

Damianos frowned. “No one will stop you from writing to your family.”

“He hasn’t written to me,” Laurent said, and he felt the pain of it. He hadn’t realized he’d been waiting for a letter from home until his second week here came to pass and he hadn’t heard anything.

He often wondered what they were doing. Did they miss him? Was his absence felt in Arles at all? Perhaps it wasn’t. Laurent had always kept to himself. And Auguste was like Damianos. He had many friends and responsibilities.

There was no doubt in his mind that Laurent missed them far more than they missed him.

“Perhaps he’s giving you time to adjust to your new life, and is waiting for you to write to him and let him know you’ve settled in,” Damianos said.

Laurent had considered that, but he didn’t want to dwell on it, especially with someone else around. Instead he turned it around on Damianos and asked, “Is that what you’re doing? Giving me space to settle in here? You’ve barely made any attempt to speak with me until now.”

“I thought to give you time to adjust, yes, but it’s nearing a month. I think it’s about time to know who I’m expected to have at my side.”

Before Laurent could stop himself, he glanced toward the doors leading to Damianos’ room again. When he looked back to him, he knew his husband had noticed.

“That’s not precisely what I meant,” Damianos said, not unkindly but not without amusement either.

“Why delay the inevitable?”

“I never do anything I don’t want.” _Or anyone_ , was left unsaid, but felt. 

“You don’t want me?” Laurent asked with clear disbelief in his voice, an eyebrow arched as if daring him to deny what they both knew.

“I don’t want unwilling bed partners.”

“Since you have a long line of whores at your door.”

Damianos didn’t look offended, rather, he looked at Laurent curiously. “Does that bother you?”

“In Vere,” Laurent said before he could stop himself. “The King takes no one but his Queen to bed.”

“This is Akielos, not Vere.”

 _Yes, and here you put your cock in anyone. It’s why you have so many bastards. Even the King couldn’t manage to keep his cock in his wife instead of his mistress. And now he has a bastard son who would kill his heir if he ever got the opportunity._ He did stop himself from saying that, at least.

“I know you want to fuck me,” Laurent said instead, bluntly. “I can tell by how you look at me. So what are you waiting for?”

“For you to want it as much as me.”

“You overrate yourself. That may never happen.”

Damianos didn’t respond right away and Laurent knew what he was thinking. He knew of the rumors about his chastity, how people called him frigid.

“You’ve never…” Damianos trailed off, but Laurent knew what he was going to say. The same thing so many men attempted to court him in Arles said.

“I’m not easily courted. I’ve no interest in one night lovers.”

A woman had once asked him, _“Is it true that no man’s ever been good enough to pry your legs open?”_

He watched Damianos absorb that, but didn’t expect the next thing he’d said.

“Here in Akielos, a person’s first time making love means something. It’s not something you do if you don’t want it.”

Laurent closed his eyes, breathed. “It’s not about what I want. It’s our duty.”

“We’ve fulfilled our duty. We’re wed. Anything after is our choice.” Damianos spoke with such sure authority and confidence that Laurent had a hard time imagining someone ever questioning him. He looked at his husband. He pose was relaxed and unbothered. He had the look of a man who had never been talked back to, his presence alone demanding respect. It wasn’t difficult to imagine him sitting on a throne as King one day.

“Won’t people wonder?”

“Who I take to bed isn’t anyone’s business. That sort of thing is extremely private in Akielos. Very few people would dare ask, and fewer would push for an answer. It’s not appropriate.”

There was a moment of silence, then, “Do you… in Vere? Do people ask about it, or demand to know what others do in the privacy of their bed?”

“It wouldn’t be necessary to. Members of the royal family consummate their marriage in front of the council,” Laurent answered, as if I were the most obvious thing.

It wasn’t. At least not according to the genuine confusion and surprise plastered over Damianos' face.

“Even the King?” he asked, sounding so scandalized Laurent surprised himself by laughing a little.

“Especially the King. The people want to know for a fact whether the royal marriage has been consummated.”

“The King knowing should be enough!”

Laurent laughed some more, something Damianos didn’t seem to appreciate based on the grumpy frown he now wore. He had that look on his face. He knew it. It was the same one Auguste wore when Laurent told him a fact about Akielon culture that he thought lacked dignity.

“Didn’t you cover this in all those cultural studies you mention,” Damianos asked after another moment of silence.

“No, we didn’t cover Akielon sex practices among royals. I did hear some things about what to expect, but not that.”

“What things did you hear?”

“That women go bare breasted in the summer, for one. The men of the court were particularly fond of that.”

Damianos rolled his eyes at that. “I don’t understand why Veretians are so strongly against nudity.”

“And many Veretians don’t understand how Akielons can be so nonchalant about it. You even bathe together. In Vere, bathing is private. A lover may join you, if you wish, or a servant to attend you.”

“Not you though,” Damianos said as if already knowing the answer.

Still, Laurent said, “No. Not me.”

“I’m told you make sure the baths are empty before entering them. That you tell the servants you wish for privacy.”

“Galene is very talkative.”

“It’s his job to tell me.”

“You’ve asked him to keep tabs on me?”

“I’ve asked him to let me know how you’re adjusting.”

“I don’t care for company while I wash,” Laurent said.

“Alright.”

Just then, a servant came knocking on the door. An older woman Laurent recognized came in. She informed Damianos that he was wanted and Damianos excused himself, leaving Laurent alone with his book.

Laurent watched him leave, not sure how to feel.

He hadn’t disliked talking to him.

 

 

He didn’t see Damianos again until dinner. As usual, he was seated next to Damianos with Kastor across from them and Theomedes at the head. No one sat at Theomedes side, both his wife and his mistress had passed, and Laurent wondered for a brief moment if Damianos would have Laurent sit at his side when he became King, at the head of the table with him rather than off to the side.

Meals weren’t the same in Akielos as in Vere, and Laurent was slowly getting used to it and even finding that he didn’t mind it.

In Vere, meals were eaten in courses. Small, carefully placed portions on decorated plates. Presentation mattered. There were eight courses minimum, fourteen was common, eighteen if there was a celebration.

In Akielos there were starters, then the main meal that was placed without trying to be beautiful on the center of the table. A lot of the seasoning for the food was also spicier. The first time Laurent accidentally bit into a piece of meat that was slathered in a red sauce and red pepper flakes, he had paused, swallowed hard, put his fork down slowly, and proceeded to drink his entire glass of water in one go.

Damianos had watched him with a smile and a gleeful glint in his eyes.

_“Can’t handle a little heat?”_

_“Shut up,”_ Laurent said once he’d finished, relieved when a servant was quick to refill the glass.    

The order of things was also different during mealtime. In Vere, servants brought out everyone’s plate at the same time. Naturally the servant attending the King and the royal family would be ahead of the others, but everyone ate at roughly the same time and got the same portion.

In Akielos, since everything was put in the center of the table, everyone had to get their own portions. A noblemen or royal could gesture for a servant to cut his meat or fruit for him, but it wasn’t as common as Laurent would have thought. Since everyone got their own food, there was an order to it. The King got his pick of the food first, then Damianos (and Laurent), then Kastor, then everyone else.

People were also loud as they spoke during dinner. People talked during dinner in Arles as well, but they were private conversations in low tones, if there was any talking at all. It wasn’t unusual to eat in silence. Laurent often did.

Akielon voices boomed all over the dining room, filling it with laughter and sometimes even loud smacks on the shoulder or backs of friends. It wasn’t that they were shouting, they just weren’t murmuring and didn’t care if anyone overheard them. People often jumped in on conversations started between others. Laurent wondered if anyone but him even thought they were being loud.

After the meal, there was dessert. Laurent admitted to himself that dessert was the biggest disappointment. Akielons didn’t feast on cakes or pastries that were decorated and almost too beautiful to eat for those who were unused to it.  For Akielons, they considered simple fruit a dessert. So after the meal, bowls of grapes or watermelon or mango were brought out. Every now and then, sweetmeats of nuts and honey were brought out and Laurent favored those the most. Damianos liked them as well, he noted, but Laurent thought he favored the cool fruit.

It made sense, he supposed. Akielos had such a hot climate that fruit that had been cooled and full of moisture were a delight. When Laurent ate a piece of watermelon, his first time, he was surprised at how much more he enjoyed it because of the weather.

After, people socialized. A friend of Damianos’ called him and they struck up conversation that Laurent decided not to eavesdrop on. Not that they were keeping their voices down.

He got up and left the table, he saw Adonis and considered making his way over to him to discuss their earlier reads, but he was speaking with five other men and he doubted it was about anything he had an interest in.

The room was stuffy and overcrowded. Laurent maneuvered his way through the bodies and decided to step outside. A few other people had also moved outside, where they could be immediately met with the cool air of the night and the beauty of the moon and stars.

He made his way into the gardens, walking until he was alone, and came across a statue of King Euandros holding a spear above his head while on a horse. Laurent recognized him from his studies. He was the King who founded Theomedes house. He had been declared the country’s heir by Queen Kydippe. Laurent knew their story well.

One day, his story will take the same path as hers. Most likely.

Just as he’d touched the arm of Euandros, feeling the smooth, unpainted marble beneath his fingers, he heard footsteps coming up behind him. He pulled his hand back, and turned to see Damianos walking toward him with an easy going smile for a second time that day.

“Find something you like?”

“I’ve stumbled upon your great-great grandfather,” Laurent said, nodding toward Euandros.

“Just a bit further back than that,” Damianos said, looking at the statue. “My mother’s line goes back much farther, to the first King of Akielos.”

“I’ve seen your mother’s statue. I admit I was disappointed to find that you don’t resemble her as much as I’d thought. Too small.” Damianos mouth twitched in amusement. Laurent tilted his head and added, “Her face, though, from what I can tell…there I saw a resemblance.”

“Oh?”

“You have her cheekbones and the shape of her mouth.”

“There’s a better statue of her at the summer palace, just outside of the city, just as there are better pieces of Euandros and Kydippe at the Kingsmeet.”

“Will I see it before you’re crowned?”

“If you want to go I’ll take you.”

“I would.” Laurent turned to look at Queen Kydippe. “She was the one who made your father’s house royalty.”

“Yes,” Damianos stood beside him, looking up at the statue of Queen Kydippe sitting on her throne, her eyes appraising and on King Euandros. “She couldn’t bare children, or wouldn’t. She had no taste for men. She was the one who created the okton, the sport of Kings. When Euandros won them, she named him her heir and crowned him. Nowadays we still do that, crown the one who wins the okton, though it’s just tradition. There has yet to be another King made this way.”

“Unless we do it,” Laurent said.

“Yes. There are other ways we can find an heir, but this is an option for us.”

“My father knew of how the start of your father’s house went. I’m sure he brought it up when negotiating our marriage when the issues of heirs came up. I’m surprised you don’t already have an heir.”

Damianos gave him a confused look.

“I know you bed women. None of them have ever been with child?”

“Does it bother you? You never answered earlier, and this is the second time you’ve brought it up today.”

_I don’t know._

“No. This is Akielos. Men fuck women they’re not married to here.” Damianos didn’t look comfortable with his blunt approach to the subject, and he didn’t want to get into it again, so he asked, “Where did you go, when the servant came for you?”

“I was discussing our trip.”

“Our trip?”

“You should see more of Akielos. Heiron, the Kyros of Aegina, has agreed to host us, and I’ve made arrangements for us to stay with Heston at his estate as well. I spent a good deal of my childhood there. The weather will be much more mild, as well.” He looked pointedly at Laurent’s pink shoulders, but Laurent paid it no mind, his thoughts focused on the news.

He had very briefly met a few Kyros during the wedding ceremony, but not all could make it and Heiron was one of them. His son had come in his place, but his meeting with him was also brief.

He would leave the palace, be able to actually ride a horse. Perhaps he could sway Damianos into a friendly race when they neared their destination.

“What is it?” Laurent asked Damianos when he turned back to him.

“You look excited.”

He was.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next chapter were supposed to be one chapter…but it got too long so I’m splitting it up lol. Damen and Laurent spend more time in each other’s company here and they make their way to Aegina. :) We also learn another aspect about Akielon culture, which I’m really enjoying building.

Much to Laurent’s disappoint, he and Damianos didn’t leave on horseback, but instead were put inside a carriage. Again, they were alone, though Laurent had brought some entertainments for them after being told in the morning that they were to spend the time on the road in a carriage.

He had been having breakfast in their rooms with Damianos when he told them. Usually they had breakfast with the court, but Damianos was serious when saying he wanted to spend some time alone with Laurent and get to know him now that he’d given him space. Laurent didn’t mind. There were comfortable silences between them and when they did talk, it was easy and light.

Laurent never cared for heavy company in the morning and he decided to have breakfast in his rooms with or without Damianos in the future.

When they got in the carriage, Laurent presented to Damianos the games he had brought with him as they left.

“I was surprised to find the cards. I didn’t think they were very common here.”

“They aren’t, board and dice games are more commonly played.”

“You’ll have to teach me how to play tavli sometime. Until then, I brought chess,” Laurent said. “Auguste and I used to play together. Sometimes he won, sometimes I won…I wonder which of us will win.”

Damianos had looked indifferent at the card games, but when chess was brought up he looked more pleased and interested. He quickly found out why when he suggested they play that one first. Damianos was an expert strategist and Laurent had to truly focus to keep up. He wasn’t able to predict Damianos’ moves as well as he’d hoped and ended up losing.

Damianos looked very pleased with himself when he took Laurent’s king.

“One day, you should learn to wrestle in the Akielon style. It’s like chess.”

Laurent remembered that wrestling was Damianos’ favorite sport. He also remembered that they did it while naked.

“I’ll pass, I think. Now.” Laurent got the cards. “Let’s play poker.” And then Laurent proceeded to completely destroy Damianos.

Collecting the cards and shuffling them back up, Laurent said, “You have no mind for deceit. You weren’t able to call a single bluff.”

“I’m not one for games that involve lying,” Damianos said, a little sourly.

“You’re a poor loser,” Laurent said with a smile.

Damianos scoffed and Laurent couldn’t stop the laugh. They switched to a new game until eventually Laurent switched to reading a book he had brought. Eventually, Damianos wanted attention again, so he wasn’t able to read for too long. He was happy for the games. They provided him something to focus on and helped keep their conversations from veering into the deep and personal.

They couldn’t make it to Aegina in a day, so they instead made their way towards an inn at a nearby village. Damianos was the first to leave the carriage, stretching his legs that had been cramped up for hours. He was built in extra large, so that even though the carriage was roomy, he spent the journey looking cramped up, his hair touching the top.

Laurent felt small next to him, even though he was of average height.

When Damianos stretched, his joints popping, Laurent didn’t realize he was staring until he was caught. His eyes dragged along his biceps, then to Damianos’ eyes, watching him as he lowered his arms.

“Enjoying the view?”

Damianos looked at him with such a lazy confidence that Laurent couldn’t help but say, “You wish.”

There was no bite to it.

 

 

They easily found an inn to stay at in a village. Their guard would sleep with the horses while he would sleep in a room with Damianos. While Damianos paid for their room, Laurent found the best table. He knew that people’s eyes were on him as he moved throughout the room, and he knew his husband was one of them.

They ate lamb as well as some bread with a small bowl of meatless soup that Laurent dipped his bread into. The meat was seasoned with spices, but nothing as overwhelming as he’d had in the palace, so he didn’t have to drink his water in one go. Damianos had the same as him, but a glass of wine to go with his water. His expression when he first drank from it showed that it wasn’t up to his standards, but continued to drink it nonetheless.

“Two more nights and we’ll be at Heiron’s. We’ll stay for five days, any longer and we’d be imposing. After that, we head north to see my friend, Heston of Thaos, in Sicyon. There might be some nights where we’ll have to camp out.”

Laurent had no issues with camping. Either way, the sleeping arrangement would be the same. They would share a bed during their travels.

They hadn’t shared a bed since the night of their wedding.

Irrationally, he considered getting a different room for himself, or banishing Damianos to the floor. He wouldn’t. In the estates, they would probably be given different rooms out of a show of respect for their rank. There was that at least.

As the night drew to an end, Laurent found himself saying, “There’s a whore house not far from here. You aren’t going to make use of it?”

“Thank you, but I’m not interested.” A pause, and then, “Despite what you might think, I’ve never taken my pleasure there.”

“It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Doesn’t it?”

Laurent stiffened, not knowing how to answer that. Carefully, he said, “In Vere we have pets. I’d have no place to judge you.”

“You never took a pet.”

“No, but my brother did, just once.” Laurent wasn’t sure why he was talking about it. Unlike Damianos, he didn’t have any wine to blame. “My brother doesn’t prefer men, so he has a hard time finding someone who suits him. But one time a nobleman brought his pet to court, as pretty as a woman and perfectly fine with wearing women’s dress. Auguste took him for a short time.” Laurent remembered the rumors and how bored he was with them. He wasn’t interested in that part of Auguste’s life, but as he was the crown prince, it was sometimes impossible to escape.

Damianos said, “Living in Vere must be frustrating for those who have preferences like your brother.”

“And you? The people you’ve been taking to bed have been women. You also prefer them?”

“For the most part,” Damianos said. “I take men too. Not as often, but I like men and have them when I want.”

“Have them…no one’s had you?”

“No. I’ve never wanted that,” Damianos said simply. “And you?”

“I already told you I’ve no experience. I don’t like repeating myself.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask.”

“Then be direct.”

“You’ve never wanted to? Not with anyone?”

“It’s…not that. I told you. I’ve no interest in one night lovers.”

“I can’t imagine someone being satisfied having you for only one night.”

Laurent felt a small shock at the seriousness in Damianos’ tone.

“They wouldn’t be able to have much more than that. Not when I was engaged and meant to come here.”

“You could have had a lover to pass the time until we wed.”

 _I could have a lover now,_ Laurent thought, but all he said was, “I’m ready for bed.”

“There’s a bath connected to the room. You can go first.” Damianos hadn’t yet finished his wine or food. He sat looking relaxed as always.

Laurent didn’t want to look at him anymore. He got up from his seat and took a quick bath. By the time he was in bed, wearing a tunic, Damianos hadn’t come up. He preferred it that way.

 

 

Damianos did not sleep clothed.

When Laurent woke up the next morning, it was to Damianos naked next to him with an arm around his waist. He was so close, his body curled into his. Laurent could smell him, could feel his breath on the back of his neck.

It…wasn’t unpleasant.

He wasn’t sure what to think about that.

Damianos hadn’t slept close to him on their wedding night. They hadn’t touched at all after deciding – after Damianos decided – that they weren’t going to have sex. There had been a respectable amount of space between them on the large bed.

That wasn’t the case now. He felt more than just Damianos’ arm around him.

He was aroused, Laurent realized after shifting a bit. It was normal enough. Laurent had woken up this way as well. It usually went away on its own. He thought, Damianos probably never needed his to go away on its own.

He knew it was common to sleep naked in Akielos. He reminded himself of this. To Damianos, he wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. Laurent was the one who was unused to it. He had become used to wearing tunics to bed, the closet things to the laced night shirts he was used to back home.

As he lay there, he took note that having another body pressed close to him both felt good, physically, but was also uncomfortable, as someone who didn’t like to be touched.

He grabbed Damianos’ hand and removed it from around him. The bed they were on was pressed to the wall and Laurent was closest to it, so when he turned around and got out of bed he had to move over Damianos to get out.

Damianos stirred and he heard him slowly come awake behind him. He didn’t wait for him, grabbing a chiton and disappearing into the adjoining bathroom to change in private.

 

 

It happened only once again on the road. The second night when they camped out, sharing a tent, Laurent had woken up without being touched. The second night, Damianos didn’t have an arm around him, but he was sleeping close enough to feel his presence when he woke. He told himself that the only reason he was so close at the inn was probably due to the bed not being the widest. Perhaps, in his sleep, Damianos had moved to him so as to not be too close to the edge of the bed.

On the third day, Laurent said he would like to ride to the estate on horseback. Damianos agreed, seeming just as sick and tired of being cramped up in the carriage as he was.

They rode at the front together. Laurent idly wondered if Damianos would want him to be behind him, to show his rank over him, but he didn’t. Laurent put his horse next to Damianos’, a bold declaration of equality, and Damianos accepted it.

Since they weren’t protected in the carriage, they wore Akielon armor. It was Laurent’s first time wearing it and as such, had a servant attend him.

The first thing he noted was that they wore undergarments with armor (and only armor).

“Heiron is a mild tempered man and easy to get along with,” Damianos said when Laurent asked about him. “He knows a lot about our history and is very bookish. I chose him to be the first Kyros for you to meet with that in mind. I thought he’d be the one you’re most likely to enjoy.”

“He didn’t attend our wedding,” Laurent said.

“No. He takes his duties seriously and rarely ever leaves the fort. If there’s business outside Aegina to attend to, he sends his son in his stead.”

“Alexon. I didn’t get a chance to speak with him, but I remember him. Young, handsome…”

Damianos looked at him curiously and said, his voice teasing, “More handsome than me?”

Laurent turned to give Damianos an unimpressed look, but didn’t answer.

Alexon wasn’t more handsome than Damianos.

Instead, he said, “I’m told you don’t care for gossip, which I’ve seen evidence of during mealtimes; however, it seems that when it comes to gossip about _yourself_ you enjoy an earful of it.”

Damianos was smiling. “That’s not an answer.”

“I can see the fort.”

They rode into town and would go straight to the fort. The town was beautiful, but Damianos was the crowned prince and wouldn’t be made to wait before being permitted into the fort. The Keeper of the household greeted them, much like Galene did. They wouldn’t see Heiron until dinner,

Like Laurent predicted, they were given separate rooms. The rooms were adjoined by a door, much like their bedchambers at Ios. Only these rooms were no doubt the same size. A continuing sign of equality that Laurent found himself leaning into.

Once alone in the room, Laurent changed out of his armor and took a private bath. The ride to town had been hot and he hadn’t had a proper bath in two days. He stayed in his room until a servant came to fetch him for dinner. Damianos didn’t meet him outside of his room, nor did he see him come out of his next door. When he was brought to the table, he found that Damianos was already sitting next to Heiron at the table, discussing something with Alexon across from him.

There was an empty seat at Damianos’ side and Laurent didn’t think twice before sitting down next to him. When he did, Damianos broke away from his conversation with Heiron to turn to him.

“Have you settled in?”

“Yes. Where were you?”

“I was meeting with Heiron. It’s been so long he sent to see me earlier than planned.”

“Guess that makes you the favorite,” Laurent said and saw Alexon’s mouth quirk in amusement. Laurent found that there was a sort of acknowledgement between them. Alexon, like Laurent, seemed to prefer to observe a room before taking part in it. He remembered at their wedding that he had been quiet, mostly keeping to himself. He had the look of a man who enjoyed games, much like Laurent.

Laurent then turned to Heiron.

He was an older man and as such dressed in a longer chiton that touched the floor. Theomedes dressed this way as well. Short chitons that went above the knee were only worn by young men.

Heiron caught his eye and smiled welcomingly, then said, “How is married life treating you?”

“Well, thank you. Damianos is a considerate husband,” Laurent said, politely.

Alexon asked, “Affectionate? I’ve heard the rumors.”

Damianos was frowning next to him and Laurent realized quickly that their marriage was being put on display to be judged here.

Not wanting anyone to question it, he leaned into Damianos’ space and placed a hand on his bare thigh, a claim.

Damianos inhaled a bit too sharply at Laurent’s touch and sudden closeness. He was a terrible actor, Laurent was tempted to pull him aside and give him tips. Yet he found himself amused by it. He had a short daydream of what it might be like in disguise with Damianos. His husband would be horrible at it. He wondered how long it would be before they were found out. He was surprised to find that he wanted to find out, if only for the fun of it.

“We’re both very affectionate and private.”

 “I’m very interested to see how Akielos will benefit from our new alliances, as I’m sure we will,” Heiron said, after a moment of silence had passed. Akielons weren’t as private as Patrans with their affections, but they came _very_ close. So as not to push his luck, Laurent withdrew his hand after giving Damianos’ thigh a small squeeze.

“Vere has a lot to offer,” Laurent said as he picked up his water.

“As does Akielos. Tell me, do you find our country very different from yours? I’ve read much on Veretian culture and have heard my share, but it isn’t often I break bread with one.”

At the mention of bread he thought of croissants, one of the differences in their culture being that Akielos didn’t have any. He looked at the bread that was hard unless dipped in soup and wished for a buttery, flaky croissant at the moment.

“There are a lot of differences, in ways that you’d expect. The way we eat our meals, the food, the architecture, and certain ways we word or refer to things.” Laurent leaned back, looking thoughtful as he added, “The hardest thing to get used to is the heat. Damianos promised me milder weather here, but I don’t feel much difference.”

Damianos rolled his eyes. “That’s just because you’re used to freezing temperatures.”

“Please, it was hardly freezing when you visited Vere. It was still spring.”

“I would love to hear more about our differences, but I’m afraid I must excuse myself,” Heiron said, his plate empty. “Please, enjoy the grounds of the fort. We have lovely trail, perfect for newlyweds to take a stroll.”

“Thank you, Heiron, we’ll do that,” Damianos said. Heiron nodded his head to them and excused himself. When he disappeared from the room, Damianos turned to Laurent and said, “Shall we?”

When his husband stood and offered his hand to him, Laurent was aware of Alexon’s eyes on him. He accepted the gesture and they left the room hand in hand.

Laurent managed to snag the last stuffed mushroom as he left and, since Alexon was still watching, offered it to Damianos. Damianos looked at him in surprise at first, then smiled and bit into it, taking exactly half so that Laurent could eat the rest. Then they were out of the room and out of sight, but Damianos didn’t let go of his hand until they were outside.

 

 

Laurent admitted to himself that Damianos had chosen well for what Kyros he would get on well with. Heiron was a respectful man full of wisdom and knowledge. Laurent enjoyed their conversations about literature the most.

“The battle poems are favored among many of my fellows, but my preferences for the arts lay elsewhere,” Heiron said. Laurent hadn’t expected it. They then went into a long conversation about their favorites. It was the first time Laurent had spoken of it to anyone. In Vere, no one was very interested in Akielon literature outside of what was shocking and scandalous. Laurent had delivered, but he did wish he had someone to talk to about it in full. There were a lot of Akielon stories that Laurent found himself engrossed in.

He had tried to speak of it with Auguste, but his brother had no interest in Akielon culture and even showed signs of being uncomfortable with Laurent’s excitement. He stopped trying to share it with him quickly.

Alexon kept Damianos company. While Laurent spoke of the arts with Heiron, Damianos and Alexon rolled around in the mud, sparring and clapping each other loudly on the back. Laurent had never been smacked on the back by anyone, not even his brother and certainly not his husband. At most, Auguste would put a hand on his shoulder and perhaps give him a little shake.

For a moment, he allowed the image of Auguste and Damianos being friends. He imagined they would act much like Damianos did with Alexon.

Damianos and Laurent had taken to exploring the outside of the fort during their stay. They toured the town, eating from stands and sitting in some places. Lamb, it seemed, was the most popular delicacy in Aegina. It was the main meal of practically every meal. It was a nice break from all the fish and seafood, which was most popular in Ios.

They had a small guard with them, and Laurent couldn’t help but daydream losing them and blending in with the crowd. He wondered if Damianos would go along with it. Damianos moved through town as if he didn’t even notice the guards, or the adoring looks of commoners who recognized their guest for who he was. Sometimes when Damianos smiled at one of them, a dimple showing in his cheek, he would be met with blushes from people who then tried to hide their face, embarrassed to be caught staring.

As they walked through the streets, Laurent looked in the direction he knew Patras to be.

“The border to Patras is close. Has Akielos ever had any issues with them?”

“Not for generations. Our relationship with Patras has been good. Plus, they’ve been having a hard time dealing with Vask for as long as I’ve been alive.”

“Akielos also has trouble with Vask,” Laurent noted.

“But not Vere.”

“No. We’re on fairly good terms.” It wasn’t until after he’d said it that Laurent realized he said ‘we’re’, but Damianos didn’t look at all bothered by it, so he didn’t correct himself. “Have you ever been to Patras?”

“No, they had disputes with Vask and were only able to settle recently. It wouldn’t look good to impose on them.”

“One of the princes, Torveld, came to Vere last year. I met with him to discuss trade,” Laurent said, remembering how Torveld had not been so interested in that conversation and instead kept trying to strike up another with him.

“I’ve heard good things about Torveld.”

“He’s a good man.”

“He’s scheduled to come to Ios soon. The three of us can talk together then.”

The idea of his husband meeting with a man who had been eager to be Laurent’s lover and expressed jealousy over Damianos snagging him left him feeling curious. He wondered if Damianos would be bothered at all if Torveld continued to extend the offer. Clearly he had no issue taking one night lovers outside of their marriage, but he had never said anything about Laurent doing the same. Rather, he only said he could have done so _before_ they wed.

Damianos didn’t strike him as the kind of man who enjoyed sharing.

He put the thought away.

“Perhaps we can even go to Patras one day. I’ve heard the palace in Bazal is beautiful. The architecture is similar to ours.”

“We’d have to go before you’re crowned,” Laurent said. “When will that be? I’ve heard that in Akielos, the current King doesn’t have to…have passed, for the crown to be transferred. It was one of the more surprising things I’d learned. In Vere, the King is King until he dies.”

“No matter how old?” Damianos asked, curiously and as if this was just as surprising.

“Yes.”

“What if he’s so old he can’t walk without assistance, or his memory starts to fail him? He won’t be asked to step down?”

“Of course not,” Laurent said, stating what he thought was the obvious. “He’s the King.”

“Everyone should get to retire eventually,” Damianos said. “My father wants me to take over the crown at thirty five, if he feels I’m ready. He wants to be young enough himself to offer me counsel. It’s tradition that he do so for at least five years, then after that he’s free to do as he likes. He can relax and enjoy the rest of his days with minimal stress.”

“Nine years…”

“That’s only if I’m ready. I may have to wait until I’m forty.”

Laurent had no doubt he’d be ready at thirty five. Damianos already felt like a King most times. He radiated authority and took charge of others as if it were second nature to him. Laurent didn’t dislike it.

“I will have to learn the okton by that time, so that we won’t have to wait long to declare an heir.”

“Have you ever thrown a spear before?”

Laurent shook his head.

“I’ll teach you.”

“I’m sure there are trainers who might be better suited,” Laurent started to say, but Damianos nudged him playfully and he lost his words.

“I’d like to see you on the field. It’d be a good bonding experience.”

“I…yes, alright.”

 

 

Later that day, Alexon joined them after an early dinner for drinks. Laurent didn’t have wine, which Damianos always noticed but never commented on. Alexon however…

“Don’t drink?”

“Only for special occasions.”

“The only time I’ve seen you have wine was the night of our wedding,” Damianos said.

Laurent remembered. He’d thought having a bit of a buzz would help get him through the night and make everything easier. It hadn’t.

He remembered waking up the next morning, not feeling hung over or bothered in ways he’d seen his brother. He remembered thinking he hadn’t had enough, that maybe that was the problem. He’d banished the thought as foolish and terrible soon after it passed.

“Perhaps tomorrow night. We’ll be throwing a feast to send you off. Other nobles from Aegina have been invited to attend. Have you enjoyed your stay so far?”

“Yes, it’s beautiful here,” Laurent said.

“I’m glad you think so, though Aegina is best seen outside the fort.”

“We’ve been to town,” Damianos said.

Alexon shook his head. “I was thinking…a bit more incognito. Sadly, we wouldn’t be able to go far out of town, but there’s a village near here that can be interesting to visit. I often do, though not as myself.”

At that, Laurent perked up. “In disguise?”

Alexon gave him an approving look. “You’re interested?”

“ _Very_.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I tried to channel The Adventures of Charls in this chapter lol. Since Damen fell for Laurent in canon because of Laurent’s playfulness as well as his intelligence, I wanted to show that a little here too. I also tried to show a shift in their relationship. Hopefully I did okay!

They followed Alexon to a room that looked like a dressing room connected that was connected to his bedchamber.

“So that we fit in,” Alexon said as he held up a worn looking wool cloak.

Laurent got a worn looking chiton and messy, homemade cloak that was a deep purple. The fabric of both was of noticeably lower quality.  He looked around for a private space to dress in, but then Damianos and Alexon dressed down right in front of him and he froze.

His gaze was drawn to Damianos. He had seen him naked before, but he hadn’t really taken it in. He barely had time to take it in now, as Damianos made quick work of wrapping himself.

Damianos caught him looking and held the pin out. “Do you want to stick it in for me?”

His knuckles were white from holding the chiton so hard.

“I thought Akielons hated public displays of affection?”

“You certainly didn’t mind it at the dinner table, with your hand on my thigh.”

“And you did?”

“You can flirt later, we need to leave soon if we want to make it out unnoticed,” Alexon said. When Laurent still hesitated to undress, his face carefully blank, he asked, “Are you…not used to Akielon clothing yet?”

Laurent felt frustrated at his own limitations of experience and said, his jaw so tense it hurt, “That’s not…”

“Veretian sensitivities,” Damianos said. “We’ll wait for you.” Then, confident Alexon would follow (he did), Damianos left the room.

Laurent felt…he didn’t know. A little embarrassed and out of place. He was unashamed of his body. He remembered the way Damianos had looked at him after undressing him on their wedding night. Still, he had never been undressed around anyone outside of early childhood and that one night. He wasn’t used to men disrobing in front of him in a private room. He was used to privacy.

Damianos had given him his privacy.

He acknowledged that as he dressed and was grateful for it. Damianos had said “Veretian sensibilities” and rather than be offended Laurent found that some deep part of him liked that he was still seen as Veretian by someone.

 

 

He was quick to dress and join the two men. They left when the guard was changing and the sun was beginning to set after a long day. They snuck into the stables and there was a lot of stop and go involved in getting their horses out.

“They’ll hear us,” Damianos said.

“No, they’re leaving, see? The day guards are always ready to leave their posts at the end of the day. Even if they did hear something, they’re so close to being off the clock they’ll probably ignore it and just tell the other guard to keep an ear out for odd noises so they can eat and relax.”

Alexon was right and they managed to escape under the guards noses. Laurent didn’t think to ask how they’d get back in. He was too excited to leave. His heart thumped excitedly in his chest when they were finally in the clear and could mount.

A successful escape, with their horses in tow no less!

They rode through the town, Alexon telling them that the real fun would be the smaller town close by. Laurent didn’t put up any argument, since he’d already been in the town surrounding the fort and the point of the night was to not be recognized. Or try to.

The next town wasn’t too far, but it was still a bit of a ride. Laurent enjoyed the wind against skin, as well as the leather from the saddle and hair from the horse. The more he became accustomed to wearing chitons the more he found he liked it. There felt so much more of the world around him this way. There was a certain freedom to it that he couldn’t explain, as well.

As he rode, his mind wandered to home and what they would think of that. After his engagement, the people of the court loved all kinds of Akielon gossip. Laurent had contributed to it. He remembered sharing things he thought shocking or funny just to get a reaction from people, especially on a boring day, or to distract people from his wedding and get off of rumors of Damianos.

He remembered how people seemed especially fixated on how Akielon’s dressed and how comfortable they seemed to be showing their skin. It wasn’t usually a flattering conversation. He wondered if Auguste ever told anyone about their lack of undergarments under chitons and how many people laughed about it. He wondered if Auguste also laughed about it. He was surprised that the thought of them laughing over it made him want to roll his eyes more than anything.

They made it to the village and dismounted their horses.

The street shops had all closed down, everyone packing up their things to go home. He noticed, though, that there were certain people who kept food items up (berries and nuts and other small foods) and just had a bowl out for people to put the money in and take what they wanted. The trust in that shocked him.

“It’s a small village. Everyone knows everyone and there’s more trust among people here,” Alexon said when Laurent brought it up.

Laurent walked up to one of the booths where the owner had already left, looking at few sweetmeats left out. Before he could even say that he wanted them, Damianos’ hand appeared and put coins in the bowl.

“Go on then,” he said knowingly when Laurent looked to him.

He felt his face get warm. He looked away from him as he took as many as Damianos had bought him, which was all of them.

“Thank you.”

They walked through the village freely. Laurent couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to explore an area without guards failing to blend in around him. He walked with a handful of sweets that he ate.

He let his eyes wander and they fell on a woman who was looking at them with her face scrunched in concentration, as if trying to figure something out. Laurent froze. When he did her face started to transform into something of giddy delight and Laurent knew they’d been found.

“I think I might stick out a bit too much in these parts,” he told Damianos and Alexon.

Before they could respond, he grabbed Damianos’ wrist and walked into an alley between houses.

“You being known as a giant and me as blond doesn’t work in our favor this far south,” Laurent remarked. He didn’t let go of Damianos’ wrist until they’d turned a few more times. He made sure not to draw more attention to themselves by looking back, but he did see Damianos do it once or twice and had to stop from laughing and telling him to stop. Every time Damianos looked, someone they passed who was still out noticed and gave them confused looks.

Laurent purposely began to slow down in walking, then turned so his back was pressed against the side of a wooden building.

“A good choice,” Alexon said as he nodded at the building Laurent was leaning against. “I could use a drink after a chase.”

Laurent rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t count as a chase. The woman didn’t follow us.”

“She almost did,” Alexon said. “Just as you disappeared over the corner she squealed and turned to her husband and said, quite loudly, that she _swore_ she just saw the crowned prince and his consort.”

It was strange to hear him described as Damianos’ consort rather than a prince himself. He didn’t like it, but it wasn’t worth commenting on.

They went into the building Laurent had leaned on and found it full of people despite it being so late.

“This is one of the few places that’s open after sunset, so a lot of people come here after a long day of work to drink and eat before heading home,” Alexon said.

Alexon went to order the drinks while Damianos sat comfortable in a chair and Laurent next to him.

 “When I was a young,” Damianos said, “I wanted so badly to escape my guards into a forest and just…explore by myself, see how far I could last on my own away from everyone.”

“Probably just until you got hungry,” Laurent teased.

Damianos laughed. “Probably. I never thought that far.”

“I’m surprised you thought of it at all. I didn’t take you for the type to sneak away from your guards.”

“A childish fantasy,” Damianos said, almost reserved, as if they were not his words but someone else’s.

“According to who?”

“My father, my tutors and trainers.” He paused, then added, “Nikandros.”

“He’s one of your closest friends. I’m surprised at how different he is.” Laurent had only met him once, but the man gave off a different vibe than Damianos.

“He used to be more fun and outgoing, but that changed when he trained at the Kingsmeet. The training there is very strict and when he came back, he had a new set of principles. He was far more disciplined and very mindful of rules and laws, more so than before. He takes everything more seriously now.”

That sounded awful, but Laurent made sure to keep that to himself.

“It’s good that you two are able to remain friends even though he’s changed so much.”

“He’s a good man, and very loyal to those close to him. He would die for his friends.”

“And you?”

“I would give my life for my people,” Damianos said, a political answer that was laced in the truth nonetheless. Then, softer, he added, “And those closest to me.” He looked at Laurent, almost hesitantly, as if he couldn’t decide if Laurent fit in that category.

Another man joined them at the table, and then followed by Alexon and a woman. Laurent looked around and noticed that a lot of the tables were full and people were talking to each other as if one big family.

“Out of towners?” the woman asked. “I don’t recognize you.”

“I’m from closer to the border,” Alexon said.

“We live in the capitol,” Damianos answered for them.

“Ios? Have you seen the prince?” the woman asked.

Damianos’ looked a little uncomfortable as he answered. It was as if he wasn’t sure if he should answer at all. Laurent entertained a short daydream of teaching him how to act…he didn’t imagine having much success with it.

“What about the Veretian prince? Have you seen him too?” the woman asked when Damianos uncomfortable confirmed that, yes, he has, uh, seen the prince. Just a glance.

“I have.”

“What’s he like?”

“He has the loveliest face I’ve ever seen.” And then Damianos looked at him and Laurent had to resist the urge to run his hand over his face. The fact that Damianos was attracted to him wasn’t new information, but the depth of his terrible acting was.

The woman didn’t seem satisfied with this and just rolled her eyes and ate her lamb. Laurent ignored it and looked back around to see that people were starting to get tipsy. He himself had a glass of wine in front of him, thank you Alexon. He picked it up, aware of Damianos’ eyes on him.

“Only special occasions?”

“In a way, it is one. We’re out without guards,” Laurent said, his voice low and private and only for Damianos.

“You can have the rest of mine, if you’d like.”

“Not good enough for your refined palate?”

Damianos’ mouth twisted, his displeasure with the quality of wine open, and Laurent couldn’t stop the laugh that spilled from his lips.

“When we get back to Ios you should try real wine.”

“Real,” Laurent shook his head, his lips wide. “You’re ridiculous. It’s all terrible.” He grabbed for Damianos’ glass and drank from it, though his own was unfinished. “Mm. There was a white wine at Arles I didn’t mind. Auguste introduced me to it after inviting me to drink with him. You don’t have it in Ios.”

“I’m not surprised. I’m sure I can find you a quality sweet wine.”

Laurent smiled against the rim of the glass, where Damianos’ lips had also touched. “Are you always this sure of yourself?”

“Yes.”

He finished Damianos’ glass. His face was starting to feel pleasantly warm as he pushed it aside, his fingers curling around his own. He downed the rest of his wine.

“You know, wine is meant to be savored, not taken like a shot of griva.”

“I didn’t realize my table manners were being judged here. It doesn’t seem like anyone else’s is. Anyway, look at them.” He nodded to a couple his eyes had gone back to now and then. The woman was practically in the man’s lap. There were a couple empty cups in front of them and they looked mere seconds away from tearing each other’s chitons off.

“They’re going to fuck,” Laurent said, then leaned close to Damianos and put his hand on his thigh, feeling daring.

Damianos leaned in as well and said, “Enjoying yourself? This is the second time you’ve put your hand on my thigh.”

He liked the feel of it.

“Keeping count? I think you’re the one enjoying yourself.”

“I never said I wasn’t. Oh, look, they’re leaving.”

“I bet they won’t even make it home. They’ll go into some alley on the way and fuck against the wall to someone’s house. Don’t you think so, _darling_?”

 “You’ve got a mouth on you,” Damianos said. There was no disapproval in it, rather, he looked at him excitedly, as if pleased by this fact of him. Laurent was taken aback by it, remembering the council back in Vere and his Akielon tutors, how deeply they’d disapproved of this part of him.

He leaned back from Damianos, allowed himself to feel the warmth in his chest without dissecting it. For now.

He gave Damianos’ thigh a pat before letting it go. “And you enjoy that too.”

“You’re Veretian,” the man frowned in disapproval, dragging his attention from Damianos and back to the others. “You have an accent.”

“A little far from home,” the woman said, his mouth twisting a bit. She looked Laurent up and down and then took a drink from her wine, looking bored and unimpressed.

“Alas, this is my home now,” Laurent said, though the words felt odd to say.

“Do you like it here?”

Laurent turned to the second man that joined them at the table, who had been quiet until now. The way he looked at Laurent was bold. His eyes dragged all over his body in a way that said he was interested. He’d been on the receiving end of _that_ look since he was fifteen, and ignored it.

So there was a grumpy man, a perverted man, and an unimpressed woman sharing the table with them. It was hard to resist the urge to rile them up for the fun of it.

“I’m growing accustomed to it.”

“Except for the heat,” Damianos added.

“It’s…different.”

“Then go back home,” the grumpy man said.

Alexon, he noticed, didn’t add to the conversation. He just sat there, watching.

“The crowned prince has just wed a Veretian, you should show some respect,” Damianos said, politely and with a smile that hid the danger the man was in if he pressed it.

“Disrespecting the prince’s spouse isn’t much different than disrespecting the prince himself,” the perverted man said. He looked to Laurent as if he should thank him for it.

The grumpy man spit behind him and rose from the table, the chair falling back behind him. He looked at them as if they weren’t worth his time, throwing them only the nastiest look he could probably muster and then leaving. The woman followed behind. Perhaps they were fucking too.

They stayed for awhile longer. Laurent had one more glass of wine and Damianos had a little to eat. He asked if Laurent wanted anything. Laurent declined. They didn’t have desserts.

They talked to a few new people, these ones more pleasant than the last. Only one other person was bothered by him being Veretian, the others were more curious, a couple looked at him like the perverted man, as if he were some exotic fantasy they wanted to play with.

Most just asked questions…

“Is it true that Veretians keep themselves completely covered, showing only their hands and head, even in the summer?”

“Yes.”

“Does it really take three hours to dress and undress?”

“No, that’s an exaggeration.”

“Is it illegal for men and women who are unwed to have sex?”

“No, but nobles have a lot to lose if they do.”

“Women never show their breasts in Vere?”

“No.”

That one was followed by a woman showing him her breasts, drunk and laughing along with both women and men who thought his expression, whatever it was, was hilarious.

Everyone was in a playful mood after that. Games were brought out and Laurent showed off a magic trick he’d learned at a tavern in Vere a year or so ago. He then turned and showed it again to Damianos, but he was a little tipsy and fumbled a bit.

“Damn it,” he cursed, laughing as he went to pick up the coin that was _supposed_ to be in his sleeve.

“Having trouble?” Damianos said, his whole expression full of glee, his eyes warm and only on him.

“It’s the wine.”

It was Alexon who had to tell them when they should head out. Damianos hadn’t said much through the questioning, only speaking when someone asked how he came to know a Veretian, only saying that they were introduced by their parents. Laurent thought it was endearing that he didn’t use any opportunity to lie, and when he was forced to look uncomfortable.

Others were leaving as well, as it was now very late into the night. It wasn’t until they were halfway to their horses that Laurent noticed the perverted man was following them.

“This is annoying.” He’d meant to only think it, but found the words coming out on their own, catching the attention of Damianos and Alexon.

Damianos frowned and turned to him. Then he looked to where Laurent was looking and his frown deepened. “What is it?”

“Just walking.”

The man’s voice was the kind that was friendly in a fake way. Laurent decided to continue to ignore him and kept walking. They’d be out of the town soon enough. He considered taking them through a maze of houses again, but Alexon was parting from them, saying something about getting some water for the way back.

He waited for him with Damianos and, naturally, the other man caught up to them, but didn’t pass.

“You’re not staying the night?”

“No,” Damianos said. Laurent just leaned back against a wooden fence they’d stopped by. He could hear pigs behind him, but didn’t turn to look.

“I can offer lodgings if you need them. Well, I only have one room though.”

“Subtle,” Laurent said.

“You don’t like it? Would you prefer I put a flower in your hair and spout poetry about your eyes? I do like them. Or would you like me to tell you all the ways I’ll make you feel good?”

“The only thing you make me feel is irritated,” he said as he pushed away from the fence and made to move past him. The man grabbed his elbow to stop him, but then he was being ripped away from him before he could do anything about it himself.

Damianos threw the man into the pig pen, among the mud and feces, breaking the wooden door in the process. Two of the pigs escaped and the door nearby burst open and a wild scream of frustration followed. The woman didn’t even look at them, only at the pigs, then turned to inside the house and screamed, “The pigs got loose!”

“Calm down woman. They ain’t gonna go far.” Her husband came out and looked at the broken door and his face quickly went from unbothered to irritated and angry.

Laurent grabbed Damianos’ wrist and dragged him away before the attention shifted from the pigs to them and they got into another altercation. Alexon saw them on his way back and scurried to join them.

Behind them, the woman’s voice shouted, “Stavos, you asshole! You better fix my doors tomorrow!”

They didn’t stop until they reached the horses. Laurent was laughing so hard he was doubled over.

“Her face,” he gasped, hands on his knees and tears in his eyes. “She really thought they were gonna dash away like rabbits!”

The run had sobered them up, not that they’d had that much to drink. Laurent had the most and they waited until he’d had some water before mounting the horses and went slower on the way back. The conversation on the way back was light and pleasant.

Laurent slept until noon the next morning. It was the longest and deepest he’d slept since coming to Akielos.

 

 

On their last day at the fort, a party was thrown in their honor. There was a food, a lot of it being Damianos’ known favorites and a few of his favorites as well. It didn’t cross his mind to wonder at it. There were also entertainments, of course. A group of women performed a dance. He noticed one of them had the same coloring as him, and that she kept looking at them.

After the entertainments was mingling with music playing in the background, as usual. People shouted their favorites and Laurent noted that there were few battle and war songs being suggested.

He saw Damianos speaking with one of the women that had danced, the one who resembled him in a way. She stood straight backed with her chin raised, as if she was trying to emulate being royalty. It never would have happened. She was the daughter of a nobleman, but a minor one. She wasn’t of high birth and never would have been fit to be Damianos’ Queen. No matter that she looked to be exactly his type and held herself as if she were someone of great importance.

Laurent already held what would have been that spot, also.

Nevertheless, they looked good together. They complemented each other in a way that Laurent wasn’t comfortable seeing, but he didn’t know why. He wanted to step between them, to pull Damianos’ attention back. Having Damianos’ attention was a heady feeling. He remembered how Damianos hadn’t looked anywhere else the night before.

It was a relief, as well as an embarrassment, when Damianos seemed to feel his gaze, because he looked from the woman to him.

Laurent looked away and walked off.

He found Alexon and joined him.

“You were testing us,” he said.

“I was.”

“And?”

“And it’s…assuring, that you two have a good relationship. My father and I support the new alliance. We wanted to meet you and see for ourselves if you would be good for our country. When Damianos wrote to us saying he wanted to properly introduce us to you, we were happy to accept.”

“And your father? Did I pass for him as well?”

“Yes. He enjoyed your talks, and he also trusts my judgment.”

Laurent felt…he wasn’t sure what he felt. He tried to pick and pry at it. Happy. His mood lifted considerably.

He wasn’t sure why, but he remembered his brother’s words to him. He’d had a few drinks, loosening the truth from him as he shared his concerns.

_“I worry for you, sometimes. I’m not sure if Akielos will ever truly accept you.”_

_“Do you think Vere would accept an Akielon match…for you?” Would you accept a match with an Akielon woman,_ was what he’d almost asked, but it wasn’t necessary. He knew the answer.

_“I don’t think we could. Not after what they’d done. Taking Delfeur from us while we were mourning our mother, when we were at our weakest, yet they speak of honor. Where was the honor in that?”_

_“They met with us after father’s assassination attempt. They offered us peace.”_

_“Because they knew we were backed into a corner and had no choice but to accept.”_

Alexon was still talking.

“Who sits on the throne matters. Who sits next to them matters just as much,” Alexon said. “You might end up being my King just as much as Damianos. Is that really so surprising to hear?”

It was. He had never considered the possibility of Damianos making him king. Crowned royalty always had a choice as to how much power their spouses had. Consorts didn’t hold much power. They were for alliances or heirs or both. Their names would never make history. If they were mentioned, it was only through someone else. Their spouse who was crowned or their child. That was all.

If the spouse was crowned as a King or a Queen it was different. They power they held was equal.

Whether a born King or Queen crowned their spouse depended on the person. Each had their own reasons. Some wanted to keep the majority of the power for themselves. Some so much that they avoided marriage all together. Others simply didn’t trust their spouse enough to crown them, for if they died, their crowned spouse would take over on their own. If they weren’t crowned, they wouldn’t and the crown would fall to the next in line. Others enjoyed having someone to share their burdens with, or crowned their spouse as a show of love.

His father had crowned his mother as his Queen and not just his consort out of love and respect. He wasn’t sure what had made Theomedes crown Damianos’ mother.

He decided to ask Alexon.

“The King…as far as I know, he may not have loved the Queen as he loved his mistress, but he had a great deal of respect for her. I’m also told she asked for it and came with reasons as to why she would be an asset to the country as the Queen and not just his consort to be bred.”

Laurent considered that. He thought of the ways he could argue his case to Damianos. His head felt full with bold thoughts.

In Vere he was the second son. He would never rule so long as Auguste lived, and he had to live.

Here it could be different. He could be King, if his husband approved of it and crowned him, as only he could.

Alexon gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“I look forward to seeing what more you bring to Akielos. I apologize for testing you and I hope we can be friends.”

“Only if you bring your disguises with you when you visit Ios.”

Alexon grinned. “Deal.”

They parted with plans to keep in contact through writing.

He wasn’t alone long. He felt the presence of someone at his side and glanced over to see the woman Damianos had been speaking with.

“Did you enjoy Aegina, your highness?”

Laurent wondered if he was supposed to be offended or impressed that she spoke to him in accentless Veretian. He decided to humor her and speak his language as well, though as the words flowed out, he felt a distant ache in his chest. Unaware of how much he had missed speaking in his mother tongue.

“It’s beautiful here, though not as cool as I was led to believe.”

“I suppose in comparison to the north of Vere, it wouldn’t be.”

“Have you been north?”

“I haven’t, but I’m aware of the different climate. I was speaking with your man just now. This is my first time meeting him. I can see why so many have fallen before him…and for him.” She turned to Laurent with a sly smile and asked, “So, how is he?”

Laurent thought back to what little he knew of Damianos in bed, which wasn’t much. All he could say was, “He’s very proportionate.”

“Lucky you.”

“You could seduce him. You’re his type,” Laurent said.

“Perhaps in another life,” she said, sounding as if she were becoming bored of this conversation. “I don’t take being second well, and that’s all I would ever be…so long as you’re in his life.” She stood, signaling that their short time together had come to an end. “Congratulations. You’ve been well matched. If only we could all be so lucky.”

In that moment, she reminded him of Kastor. Ambitious, power hungry, and a desire for the throne that she never would have attained due to him being a bastard and her not being a high born lady. In another life, she could have tried to sink her claws into Damianos and at least have been a lover and possible confident. Or perhaps into Kastor, whispering ideas into his ear or taking advantage of others doing so. Laurent was thankful she was not coming to Ios to be given the chance.

Perhaps she could find Alexon suitable, but then banished the thought entirely. The son of a Kyros wouldn’t be enough for a woman like Jokaste. Perhaps one day she could find a way to travel east, to Patras, where there were more princes who would let her whisper in their ear. He almost pitied the man she was bound to snare. She would rule him.

He looked to Damianos. Perhaps that was another, truer reason she could never work with Damianos. He wasn’t a man to be ruled by anyone.

It wasn’t until the feast was over that he and Damianos spoke, his husband walking back to their adjoined rooms with him.

“You spoke with Jokaste,” Laurent said.

“For a short time.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t keep your eye,” Laurent said.

“In another life, she might have,” Damianos admitted.

_But how long would she have kept it? You’d court her, bed her, perhaps you’d keep her with you, but she could never have been your Queen, and you would have continued to have other lovers on the side. A virile prince that Akielons could take pride in._

Laurent saw what Jokaste’s life would have been like with Damianos. It wasn’t much different from his own life. Only Damianos wasn’t bedding him, nor did he have his confidence. Still, he didn’t envy her in that life.

“You spoke with Alexon,” Damianos said. “He seeks you out a lot.”

There was something about Damianos’ tone that made the corners of his mouth lift.

“He was testing me. Or us, perhaps. To see if we made a good match, and if I was a good match for Akielos.”

Damianos looked almost relieved by it, so that his next words came out playful. “And? Are we a good match?”

“What do you think?”

“I think we could be,” he said. “I liked watching you last night. I liked seeing you with our people.”

Our…

“You mean, other than the man you threw in the pig pen?”

“He had no right to grab at you like that, and the way he spoke to you…” As he said it, his hand brushed Laurent’s arm, where the man had grabbed him.

Laurent’s heart was thumping in his chest.

“Yes. Well. Thank you…for,” he gestured, but he wasn’t sure why. He felt flustered in a way that was new and found that he didn’t know what to say. He felt awkward and unsure. When he looked at Damianos, he felt caught in his eyes, dark and looking at him fondly.

They stopped at the door to Laurent’s room.

For a moment, he wondered if Damianos would kiss him. They stood close, so that all he’d have to do is lean down. He was vaguely aware of his unsteady breath.  

“Well, goodnight.”

And then Damianos left him standing there and disappeared into his own room.

Laurent stood there for awhile longer, trying to get his body under control, before turning into his own room. He tried not to think about Damianos as he lay in bed and failed. He thought of the way Damianos looked at him, thought of his beautiful brown eyes on him, of his smiles and frowns, of how it felt to see him throw that man in protectiveness of him… He thought of him enough that he dreamed of him for the first time.

It was a very private dream.

 

 

After another long ride, they’d made it to Heston. Damianos told him many stories his childhood on the way there, and unlike on their journey from Marlas to Ios, he found himself listening and wanting to hear more, making comments here and there and enjoying himself.

It was dark when they arrived, and they were covered in dirt and sweat from the ride, needing to bathe.

Damianos bathed with Heston and a few others. Bathing in Akielos was a social event, a luxury nobles especially seemed to enjoy. Laurent wasn’t sure if he would ever come to feel that way. Bathing to him was private and something he just did to clean himself. He would soak in the bath if he was sore or stressed, perhaps, but he couldn’t ever imagine wanting company on those days.

Fortunately for him, Damianos didn’t push it. Other Akielons most likely saw it as a weird Veretian quirk, but he knew there would be some who would disapprove, wanting Laurent to discard even this about himself. He wouldn’t. Surely there were some things he could keep for himself.

Unlike at the fort, he shared a room with Damianos. The bed was larger than the ones at the inns they had stayed at, so it wasn’t a bother. He thanked Heston for his hospitality and the servants showed him to their room.

In the room they were given there was a private bath, Laurent made use of that. He didn’t rush or dawdle. When he came out he wore nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Idly, he considered just taking it off and climbing into bed, as bare as his husband was when he slept. It was only a daydream, one that he entertained while putting on his tunic.

Laurent went to the balcony doors and opened them, letting the cool air of the night in. It was too hot to light a fire, like he would back in Vere. He closed his eyes and dwelled in the memory. Sitting in front of a fire after his bath and letting his hair dry, then when it was no longer dripping, finding a good book to read and cozy up on the couch…

He was brought out of the memory by the door opening. Turning, he saw Damianos, buck naked and toweling his hair.

“You walked all the way back naked?”

Damianos paused and gave him a confused look. “Yes.”

Laurent had barely heard him, his eyes instinctively going down, then immediately back up, cheeks warm. Damianos was watching him. At being caught, he walked up to Laurent until they were standing next to each other. Laurent tried not to pay attention to his nakedness.

“The view is beautiful here.”

“Tomorrow, you should speak with Heston as you did Heiron. I think you’ll enjoy it. He loves philosophy.”

“And you think I do as well?”

“Don’t you?”

He did.

“And you?”

“It can be enjoyable, though Heston and I argue a lot over it.” Damianos didn’t sound bothered by this. “I would also like to walk through the gardens with you.”

“I saw a little of them before we arrived.” He turned to look at Damianos, who’s attention was on him. He didn’t miss that his husband had been looking at his mouth.

“You look like you want to kiss me.”

Damianos only smiled. “Am I that obvious?”

“Embarrassingly so.” Then, “I’m your husband. You may kiss me if you like.”

“If I like…or you?”

Laurent didn’t respond, his words caught in his throat as Damianos’ hand came up and brushed his hair behind his ear. The ride here was long. They had shared bedding on the way. When he found out he would share a bed with Damianos here, he…hadn’t been displeased. He was starting to grow used to the feel of Damianos’ weight beside him as he slept. In private moments where he was by himself, he admitted to himself that he liked it.

What had changed, and when? Was it when Damianos snuck away with him and spoke with him, not as princes or even as husbands, but like…like friends. Was it because of how he looked at him that night? It was the way he was looking at him now. Warm and open. Or was it his honesty that Laurent couldn’t help but be drawn to…though he was become drawn to more and more of him as the days passed.

_If we had met under different circumstances, I would have liked you right away. I would have trailed after you, trying to gain your attention and affection, tugging on your sleeve, wanting your eyes on only me…_

Damianos was leaning closer to him, his hand now on his cheek. Laurent’s breathing became unsteady again, his pulse racing. His eyes closed on their own and his lips parted…

And then Damianos pressed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

He swallowed his disappointment.

“That wasn’t…”

“What you were expecting?”

“You don’t want to?”

Damianos didn’t answer right away, his thumb stroked his cheek and he said, “You already know that answer. We’ve talked about it before.”

Then, he’d said he would wait until Laurent wanted it as well. He wasn’t sure why Damianos was hesitating.

“Walk the gardens with me tomorrow. There’s so much of this place I want to show you.”

Laurent closed his eyes, took a deep breath and said, “Alright.”

Damianos withdrew his hand. Laurent could still feel the warmth on his cheek and had to resist bringing his own hand up. His thoughts were all over the place, thinking about the next day, and the one after…and how things would change when they returned to Ios.

His time away from Ios had been…it had been needed in some way. Returning…he wasn’t sure how it would be, or if anything would change at all. He was surprised at the ache of the possibility of it.

His heart didn’t feel as safe as before, or as removed from his husband.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some pining and comfort in this chapter. Enjoy :D!

Their time at Heston’s truly felt like a vacation. There were no responsibilities, no one testing them, no stress, just walks along the gardens, trips into town, enjoying the view, and Damianos showing him where he played as a boy.

And there were kisses, though none where he wanted them.

Damianos kissed him on the forehead, on his cheeks, and then at each corner of his mouth. Laurent’s breath shook, his heart beating so hard it ached, thinking Damianos would kiss him properly, and swallowing a pathetic sound when he didn’t.

He found himself remembering when Damianos had kissed him, on their wedding night. He remembered it arousing him, but his heart had felt nothing and remembering it had been dull. Now the memory took on a different meaning and added to his fantasies in a way that left him breathless.

He knew how Damianos kissed. Deep and slow. He kissed in a way that made it impossible to think or concentrate on anything else.

Laurent liked kissing. That was the one thing he had learned on his wedding night. His body strongly reacted to it, enough that he could become aroused by kissing alone, even when he wasn’t particularly in the mood.

Damianos had also praised him, his mind…but also how he looked. He remembered how empty compliments about his appearance were when other men did it, but somehow it was different with Damianos. He was pleased that Damianos found him attractive. He _wanted_ Damianos to be attracted to him, to find him beautiful and arousing. He had not cared enough for a man to want that before.

These new feelings were delicate and needed care to develop. Laurent hadn’t expected Damianos to be aware of that, had expected the feelings to fade, as fragile as they were, but instead they continued to develop during their time together and became impossible to ignore.

He didn’t want to come back to Ios, and not just because of the heat. The thought brought with it a kind of discomfort that he was aware of but kept shoved away in the back of his mind. He found that he didn’t want things to go back to the way it was, with them rarely talking and Damianos taking lovers to bed. He didn’t like the idea of others having him, especially when he hadn’t.

 _You’re my husband, but you’re not mine_ , he reminded himself as they rode back in the carriage. _Your heart isn’t mine. Our marriage is a political one. It’s expected and assumed that you would have other lovers. We’re married, yet not together._

It wasn’t as common in Vere for nobles to seek lovers outside of their marriage, but he was aware it happened among some who were paired in political marriages that had nothing to do with love or devotion. He had been realistic enough with himself about the possibility of ending up in one as well. He’d just hoped…well, it didn’t matter what he’d hoped.

In no time at all, they were back in Ios.

 

 

The first thing he did when they got back was check to see if there were any letters that had arrived while they were gone. He tried to shove the hurt aside when told there weren’t. Galene looked at him apologetically and Laurent left with the promise that he wouldn’t ask again. Galene would know to make sure he received his letters, so there wasn’t a point to it, especially if he wasn’t getting any.

That night, he attempted to write to Auguste. He tried multiple times but each letter ended up getting put in his desk drawer until he gave up and went to bed.

The first morning on his way back he found himself waking early and alert. Without meaning to, he listened in for sounds of company in their rooms, irritated at his own relief when he couldn’t hear anything. It wasn’t long before he found himself asleep again, then woke up later to Damianos being gone. He had his breakfast in their rooms alone and often found a topic or random thought he wanted to share with Damianos enter his mind, then pushed aside.

He missed him.

He didn’t know what to do about that feeling.

Damianos had been at his side throughout their entire trip. Now his bed felt cold and he found himself constantly turning to tell Damianos something only to find that he wasn’t there.

There was an ache of loss he felt deep in his chest since they arrived the night before.

Sometimes he would find himself thinking of what Damianos was doing. Was he with his father, his friends, or was he throwing men around on the training grounds?

He tried to keep his thoughts away from Damianos in the baths, the sea, or with anyone that might have caught his eye.

After the morning passed he went to the library to get a new book to read now that he was back. The library was empty of people, as usual. Those of the court preferred to spend their time out in the sun. Although even in Arles, the library was often a quiet place scarce of people. It was one of the reasons why he found himself dwelling there.

He had always liked being alone, with mostly his books for company, and his mother and brother and those of the court every now and then.

Strange that he wasn’t looking forward to his time alone with books. Rather, he felt lonely.

 

 

News of Auguste’s engagement came to him through gossip in the court. There was a woman of the court, Adrianna, who seemed to always be the first to know everything. Laurent had made it a point to introduce himself to her.

“Prince Auguste of Vere is engaged to a Patran princess,” she giggled to him with a glass of wine in her hand. “She’s the daughter of the King. The wedding is set in Vere this _winter_. The princess is very excited, as she’s never seen snow like what they get in Arles before.” She paused to take a sip of her wine, watching him over the rim. When she pulled back she asked, “Oh, were you not told?”

“I’ve been busy.”

He didn’t linger with her any longer. He had caught her in the gardens on his second day back. Now he wanted more than anything to go for a ride, but there was no forest for him to get lost in here. There were only cliffs and the sea, and he didn’t know how to swim.

There was so much distance between him and his family. Their lives moved on without him, as his did without them, and it felt…he didn’t know how he felt. Abandoned, perhaps. Hurt and forgotten.

This was how it was to be now. He would hear news of his family and Vere through gossip and rumors.

 

 

“That’s good news, about your brother,” Damianos said as they walked through the halls together. Damianos had a meeting with his father. They came across each other in the hall and he asked for some company on the way there. Laurent wouldn’t be invited to join in the meeting, of course.

“Yes.”

Damianos frowned and looked at him as if trying to figure him out, as he often did. Laurent wasn’t ever sure what he saw. There was probably nothing to see. Laurent felt detached. His brother was becoming a stranger to him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Letters would take forever to come and go. He was sure he’d be invited to his wedding, but who really knew how long he’d see him after that? The uncertainty of it was the hardest part.

“You aren’t happy for him?

“I am.” And he was. Auguste would make a good husband and an amazing father. He had a strong sense of duty to his family, especially when it came to the family members who depend on him. He would have liked to share Auguste’s joy with him in person, but he couldn’t do that.

He didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so he changed the subject to something else that had been on his mind.

“I’ve been sleeping well since we've returned.”

“Oh?”

He had no doubt Damianos knew what he was referring to. Still, he added, “It’s been quiet. Have you finally tired of the men and women in the area?”

“I don’t want them.”

_That’s right. You never do anything you don’t want. You never bed anyone you don’t want._

“You don’t want anyone?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

Laurent’s body pulsed at that. The way Damianos looked at him. His eyes trailed slowly over Laurent’s features, stopping at his mouth.

“You had opportunities during our trip.”

They stopped at the doors and faced each other.

“I wanted us to use the time to get to know each other.”

“You still think I don’t want to?”

“I don’t know what you think. Sometimes I think I do, but you hold a lot back and I’m left guessing. I’m still guessing wrong sometimes. And there are still times when you pull away from me.”

That feeling was mutual. Laurent thought he understood Damianos, but he realized over the course of their trip he didn’t understand him at all. 

“Tell me what you want,” Laurent said.

“I want us to be open with each other and know one another.”

“He still hasn’t written me,” the words rushed out on their own accord.

Damianos’ gave him a confused look at the abruptness and asked, “Who?”

“Auguste.” He had forced his name out. He felt vulnerable in a way that he didn’t like being around other people and he wasn’t sure if he could say more than that, so he looked away from Damianos’ patient face and said no more.

“You should write to him. Maybe he’s waiting for it, or maybe he’s just been too busy. Sometimes my father has me doing so much that the days blend together. Months pass and it’ll feel like it’s just been a couple days.”

It was what Laurent had told himself, yet hearing someone else say it calmed something in him. When he looked back to his husband, he wanted to step up to him, to be close to him. There was a comfort in him that Laurent felt drawn to, but he felt himself pull back.

“You shouldn’t keep your father waiting.”

“Laurent-”

“I will see you at dinner.” He turned, then said, without looking. “Thank you for your advice.”

 

 

He thought about the talk with Damianos the next day and decided to stop holding back. He had attempted many letters to his brother, but had thrown them in the fire.

Sitting down at his desk in his small room, he began again.

_Auguste,_

He stared at the page for awhile after writing down his brother’s name. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, but rather that there was so much to say that he didn’t know where to start.

_How are you? I miss you._

His heart ached as he thought it. He didn’t write it. He had spent time away from his family throughout growing up. For border duty or trips that they didn’t all go on together. It was different though, because this wasn’t a trip or a temporary situation. Ios was his home now. As odd and unnatural as it felt to think, it was his reality. He wasn’t on a trip he’d come back from. His brother…he had no idea when or if he’d ever make a trip to Ios.

His heart _hurt_.

 _I miss my family,_ he thought desperately. _I miss my home, my books, the gardens and paths I grew up with. I miss going out for rides on my horse, the first one I ever broke in, who I had since she was a small pony. I miss feeding her out of my hand and grooming her. Is she even still alive? She was getting old…_

He dropped the pen and pressed his palms to his eyes, elbows on the table and his back hunched over.

_I’ve been left alone. I’m used to being alone. I used to like it in Arles. I sought it. But it’s different here. I’m lonely._

He hated himself for thinking it, for feeling it.

Memories of growing up in Arles came to him. Finding abandoned little spaces in or outside the palace that weren’t often frequented and hiding out in them. There were even some hiding places he’d found that Auguste hadn’t known about. As a child, he’d liked those spaces the most. He remembered wanting something he didn’t have to share with anyone, a secret sanctuary of sorts just for him. He wasn’t sure if that was true or not. Perhaps it was known and people had just humored him. If that was the case, he was thankful for it.

Here in Ios…he felt alone everywhere, even if he was surrounded by people. He was alone in his rooms that he shared with his husband. He was alone at the dining table, in the crowded halls, in the gardens…

He didn’t want to be by himself in that moment. He stood from his chair so quickly the legs scraped against the floor.

He didn’t know where to go. He had no one to go to. The library was the only place he felt comfortable in, sometimes finding solace in books.

There then.

He left his room in a rush, not seeing anything, but before he fully crossed through the main sitting room to leave, a voice stopped him.

“Is something wrong?”

He stopped abruptly and looked over at Damianos, sitting on the sofa looking over something. He had been so quiet, Laurent hadn’t known he was there.

He was looking at Laurent as if trying to figure him out.

Instead of answering, he asked a question of his own, “What are you reading?”

“A proposal my father wants me to look over. He wants my opinion.”

He remembered his own father had also asked for Auguste’s opinion on things, and wanted him to sit in his meetings more and more. Damianos, as Theomedes heir, would be expected to do the same. He remembered how Damianos was expected to take over at thirty five. And how Alexon considered how he might one day be Damianos’ equal.

He wasn’t Damianos’ equal now. He didn’t know if he should let himself hope that one day he would be.

But who else if not him? The idea of Damianos one day finding a mistress or lover to whisper in his ear, share his bed and be in his confidences irritated him. He felt the shift in his emotions and the determination as it came.

Plans changed. He sat across from Damianos on a chair and said, “Will you tell me about the proposal if I asked?”

“Are you asking?”

“Yes.”

To his surprise, Damianos did. He even handed over the parchment and allowed Laurent the time to read over it himself, listening when Laurent spoke. It had felt like a long time since Laurent had read anything political. Most of what he read concerning the country since coming to Ios had been the history of Akielos and its relations with its neighboring countries.

Laurent handed Damianos back the parchment when their conversation about politics had come to an end. He satisfied himself with the fact that Damianos had been open to his opinions and thoughts. He made a mental note to insert himself in the affairs of the country more often. It had felt good. Familiar. And it had provided the perfect distraction from his emotions.

But the distraction was gone now, and Damianos hadn’t forgotten how he looked rushing out of his room.

“You never answered my question,” Damianos said. “You often don’t.”

“I answered many questions you had just now.”

“Not in regards to the proposal, but before that. You looked like you had a fire lit under you. Why?”

“I…” He thought of what truth he was comfortable sharing. “It’s just hard. Being cooped up in the palace all day every day.”

“You’re free to explore the gardens and grounds.”

“I want to go into the city.”

“Alright.” Damianos stood up and Laurent felt close to sputtering in response to his husband saying, “Let’s go then.”

“Now?”

“I have nowhere to be. Do you?”

Laurent stood up.

“I never do.” That was the problem.

His heart jumped when Damianos took his hand. “Let’s go then.”

 

 

It was as if he were being thrown back into their trip. Only this time, it was just them (and their guards). There was no Alexon testing them and leading them, no Heston to discuss philosophy with, no one to interrupt their walks.

Damianos hadn’t let go of his hand for a long time. When he did, Laurent, without meaning to, grabbed it not long after. Damianos didn’t comment on it.

Laurent felt like he was clinging to this. Damianos’ hand was bigger than his own, just a bit. He liked it.

They spoke as Damianos finally, _finally_ showed him Ios. It was a crowded city full of people in a hurry. Not at all like the places he visited in Aegina. People shouted and shoved at each other in the market, but not them. They bowed their heads and didn’t lock eyes with Damianos and Laurent. Some people offered gifts, which Damianos denied. One person looked like they were going to approach them, but were turned around by the guard. Most kept a respectful distance. It was considered treason to lay hands on the King, and most people didn’t want to risk crossing that line.

“You don’t come into the city too often,” Laurent said.

“It can be stressful for those involved,” Damianos said. “When I was a child my father forbid it. He still doesn’t think it’s entirely safe.”

“But?”

He smiled at him, the dimple in his left cheek becoming visible. “You want to see the city.”

Crowded though it was, Ios was beautiful. Everything was so simple, but there was so much to look at. He could see Isthima in the distance and Damianos told him of his trip there and how he was excited to share the island with Laurent one day. He took him close to the water, showed him the Gulf of Atros and shared with him the history of the name.

He remembered one of his closest friends back in Vere, Berenger. He was a simple man and they bonded over their mutual love of horses and books. He was the perfect friend for Laurent, enjoying reading over talking. It wasn’t uncommon for them to just read in each other’s company. His brother had thought it strange. Auguste as a social person, who used his time with people to talk to them, play sports with them. He couldn’t understand spending time with a friend only to sit in silence and read.

With Damianos, their friendship…or whatever it was that was growing between them, was different. Laurent enjoyed their conversations. He loved talking to Damianos and sometimes found himself rambling on and on about the most mundane things.

There were comfortable silences with Damianos as well. They were calming. But even those felt different than the ones he shared with Berenger or even his family. He couldn’t explain it. There was a moment when they were looking at the water, holding hands, listening to the waves in silence, that Laurent wanted to lean against his arm. He looked at Damianos and saw the wind play with his curls and wanted to raise his hands and bury them in his hair.

Those feelings were new and not associated with anyone from his past.

He didn’t do any of it, just enjoyed the quiet moment with him.

When Damianos looked down at him, catching him staring, he told him he was beautiful. Laurent couldn’t help but flush with pleasure.

Then Damianos was tugging him elsewhere.

They were moving through the markets and Laurent tugged Damianos’ hand to make him stop at the sound of a Veretian accent. He looked over to see a small area of Veretian merchants selling goods from Vere.

He let go of Damianos’ hand, his feet taking him to them without thought.

There was…so much he recognized.

The fabric and the intricate designs on some of it. He ran his fingers over some games he had grown up playing. A pack of cards with Veretian designs. The nostalgia was so strong he felt like he would choke on it. He had felt so homesick earlier, before Damianos called out to him and he welcomed his company to distract him. Now it was coming back as he took in every single thing, some familiar and some not.

There was a point where he closed his eyes and just listened to the merchants talking to each other in Veretian in between their accented Akielon towards potential customers.

“Laurent,” Damianos said as he came up behind him, his voice questioning.

The merchants took note of them then, took note of their dress and the guard and Laurent could _see_ when they pieced it together.

“Your highness,” the merchant gasped, and then the other merchants noticed him. The Prince of Vere was there.

 _I belong to Akielos now_ , he thought, but then another thought followed, _I will always be a Prince of Vere._

The merchants were speaking to him, trying to make a sale to the prince of their country.

They spoke to him in Veretian.

It _meant_ something to Laurent that they did that.

One of the merchants sold books, and what caught Laurent’s eye was a childhood favorite. It wasn’t the most enthralling reading experience, but it held nostalgic value. More so when he was feeling homesick and vulnerable. His fingers trailed over the cover.

He was aware of Damianos close him and said, “My mother read this to me as a boy. It’s the first book I remember reading.”

“I remember on your first day here, you asked if we had any Veretian books in our library.”

“You don’t, of course.”

“You should get it.”

Laurent looked at him in mild surprise.

“For the library?”

“For yourself.”

“It’s a children’s book.”

“It means something to you.”

There was the patient understanding in Damianos’ voice that Laurent always found himself drawn to when it appeared. He felt that way now as he picked up the book. Damianos paid for it and the merchant thanked him in Akielon, then switched to Veretian with him.

Laurent wanted to spend more time with them, to find out where they would eat after the day was over and speak with them. But it wasn’t possible.

He noticed Damianos watching him as they walked away.

“What is it?”

“You looked happy.”

“They spoke to me in Veretian,” he said. “The last person who did that was Jokaste. Most people here speak to me in Akielon. I just miss it.”

“I can speak Veretian,” Damianos said. Then, in Veretian, “It’s not perfectly accentless.”

He liked his accent.

“You would speak Veretian with me?”

“Yes.” There was a pause, then, “I think if I had to give up speaking Akielon completely, I would miss it.”

“I always knew I would be expected to speak Akielon here.”

“You can speak in whatever language you want with me.”

“In private, perhaps. I don’t think it would be appreciated around the court.”

Damianos was thoughtful for a moment, then surprised him by asking, “Has…someone told you that you’re less Veretian now?”

 _Yes. My tutors. The court back at Arles…my family…_ The last one wasn’t fully accurate. His family had never outright said it, but he just felt it in them. He remembered the way Auguste had looked at him the day after his wedding, the way his family had looked at him during it. As if he were a stranger.

_“You look Akielon.”_

Then there was the fact that he was forced to leave everything behind. That he could no longer dress Veretian, that he had left behind the horse he’d broken in himself and had had for years, his books, his childhood items…everything.

How could Damianos understand that? He hadn’t had to give up anything.

“As our wedding approached,” Damianos said, “I often wondered how it would feel if our places were switched. If I had gone to Vere to be with you.”

“You would have hated it.”

“I’ve never been to Arles, but after our engagement I took the time to learn about it. Don’t look so surprised.”

Laurent didn’t know what to say, only, “There was no need for you to learn. You’ll never have to live in Arles.”

“Do you not want to go back?”

“I didn’t…say that… I don’t have any expectations.” Before Damianos could comment on that he asked, “What did you think?”

“I thought that Arles, or Vere in general, was…different.”

“A polite way to say you hate it.”

“I don’t hate it. It’s just not what I’m used to. I think it would take me awhile to grow accustomed to it, if I ever did. When I thought that, I wondered if it’d be the same for you here. It must be. I wanted to give you space to absorb the differences on your own. The things you can’t…I never would have forced you to compromise parts of you that you don’t want to.”

At that moment, Laurent remembered Damianos making sure he had privacy when dressing, how he hadn’t pushed him into public bathing, or mocked him for his distaste of the heat, even trying to show him the “cooler” parts of the country during some of the hottest months.

He remembered the awning on their balcony that hadn’t been there before, that Laurent hadn’t asked for but enjoyed the shade of while reading.

And now he had bought him his favorite childhood book to keep in his room. His only personal item.

“We should probably head back,” he said, before the emotion could choke him.

He said it in Veretian.

“Alright.” Damianos grabbed for his hand again.

“Thank you for showing me the city. I look forward to seeing more of Akielos.”

He meant it.

“There’s a lot to see. And we have time. We have our whole lives.”

They spoke in Veretian, and continued to speak it until they got back to the palace and parted, Damianos heading for the baths and Laurent going back to his room to look through his book and reminisce.

It wasn’t until Damianos left that Laurent realized how at ease he had been with him. How easy the conversation had been.

Laurent hadn’t had easy conversation in what felt like a long time.

 

 

It was the next day that Galene came with a letter in his hand.

“This came for you, your highness.” He held it out and Laurent, carefully, took it from him.

“Thank you, Galene.”

In the privacy of his bedroom, he broke the seal. He already knew who it was from before he opened it. The seal had been a starburst.

_Laurent,_

_Life has been fast paced since you left. Father decided that you marrying before me wasn’t acceptable and negotiations began for who I’d court. Since you’ve established our peace with Akielos, it was decided I would wed a daughter of the empire or a Patran princess. Since Vere already has a good relationship with Vask, I decided it’d be more beneficial to choose Patras._

_Father wasted no time in sending me out. It was decided that I should court her first, so that’s what I’ve been doing. I’m interested in your opinion of her. Father is pleased with my choice, though he hasn’t met her yet. She will stay in Patras with her family until our wedding as is Veretian custom. I will be writing to her soon as well, as is expected._

_I just got back to Arles and I feel like there hasn’t been much time to sit down and breathe, let alone write. I hope you aren’t too cross with me._

_How are you?_

_I’m a little worried. You haven’t written, but then, I suppose you must be just as busy in your new life. Is it very different from Arles? What is Ios like? I’m told it’s close to the sea. Can you see the water from the palace? Have you learned to swim yet?_

_Is Damianos treating you well? How’s the court drama? I know how much you like it. Have you helped to spread any funny or interesting rumors yet? Please don’t spill any embarrassing secrets of mine!_

_I look forward to hearing from you. I will write again to you soon, perhaps when I’m not as sleep deprived as now._

_Auguste_

Laurent sat back in his chair, remembering Damianos’ words from the previous day. How you can get so busy that days just blend together. He did the math of how long it would take for Auguste to get from Arles to Patras and back and how busy he must have been.

He felt foolish for feeling forgotten.

Hearing from Auguste lifted a weight from his shoulders.

He read over it again and couldn’t help but feel a little…envious. Damianos hadn’t written to him once throughout their engagement. But then, he hadn’t written to Damianos either. It hadn’t even occurred to him. His marriage to Damianos wasn’t the same as Auguste’s with his Patran princess. Damianos didn’t come to Vere to court him. Laurent hadn’t been courted at all. The closest he’d gotten to it was at Heston’s.

The memory of putting a flower in Damianos’ hair during one of their walks in Heston’s gardens and then Damianos doing the same… It had been one of the most tender moments between them.

How different things might be had it happened before they wed.

Rather than dwell on it, he took his piece of parchment out with Auguste’s name on it. Unlike before, the words came easily, responding to Auguste’s letter and following his lead.

He was looking forward to telling Damianos about it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just thirst and flirting lol. Only one more chapter after this and then an epilogue. Hope you enjoy!

Nikandros had come to Ios for a visit. They wanted to discuss trade and Laurent had greeted him by telling him that he was useless when it came to how he taxed merchants selling goods. Nikandros hadn’t liked that and he could tell he was struggling with how to respond to such a blunt statement.

Damianos, on the other hand, looked at him with a joyful smile that his friend scowled at. Laurent didn’t respond to either of their expressions, but he felt a blossoming happiness at Damianos’ reaction.

Things had been good between them. He told Damianos about Auguste’s letter and they received an official invitation to the wedding not long after. Damianos worked it out with his father right away, to make certain they could go. Laurent found himself appreciating Damianos more and more by the day. It wasn’t until Damianos confirmed that they were set to travel in winter that Laurent realized he hadn’t even thought of it. He had depended on Damianos to take care of it for them.

It was a good feeling.

Now he stood along the side of the training grounds and watched him spar with his old friend. Nikandros was good with a sword...Damianos was better.

At Arles, he had watched Auguste spar sometimes. He remembered feeling proud when his brother bested his opponents. With Damianos, there was also a sense of pride in watching him spar, but it was different, and there was something else added to what he felt as well. Something that made Laurent want to put Damianos on his back, but with his hands rather than a sword. More than anything, he wanted to put his hands on Damianos. 

Nikandros came close to getting Damianos, but it seemed like no time at all until his husband had his friend on the ground and yielding to him. Nikandros didn’t look bothered, grinning at his friend as they laughed, keeping it friendly. There was a brief period afterward where Damianos looked to Laurent like a dog waiting to be told he’s a good boy. He saw Nikandros roll his eyes at his friend even as Damianos turned back to him to help him up.

The servants handed them towels to wipe off the sweat and Laurent couldn’t help his wandering eye. He lingered on Damianos’ arms, then moved slowly down his chest and torso, which were bare. The clip that held his chiton up had been discarded, leaving the fabric to bunch up around his waist. Laurent was all too aware of how easy it would be, to simply untie the knot at his hip and then Damianos would be completely bare.

Laurent hadn’t seen him without clothing since they got back, but he of course remembered his body well. He especially remembered it in the privacy of the night, when the candles were out and he was alone in his room, free to indulge in whatever thoughts and daydreams he desired.

After tossing the used towel aside, Damianos came toward him. Confidence looked good on him. Laurent often found it tiring on others, annoying, but on Damianos it was…attractive.

Perhaps it was because he had a reason for his confidence. On other men it came off as over confidence, or arrogance, and they postured often to him, ignoring that he wasn’t interested.

“Did you enjoy watching?” Damianos asked, his voice teasing.

“It ended quickly. Many times.”

Damianos absolutely _beamed_ at him. Laurent felt himself smile and did nothing to stop it.

“Perhaps we could spare one day. I’ve yet to see you with a sword.”

The words came out without thought, “Hot to put me on my back?”

Damianos flushed at that, and Laurent felt his own cheeks heat at his own boldness.

 _Will my back hit the asphalt before your bed_ , he almost added, but held his tongue on that one.

Nikandros came up behind them and slapped Damianos on the back and then the two went off to bathe. Damianos kept throwing him looks until he disappeared around the corner of the hall. Laurent hadn’t been able to keep his eyes from him in return.

Once Damianos was gone, Laurent went to have lunch by himself with only a book for company. He ate out in the gardens, the servants putting up an awning for him as usual. Damianos, he knew, made it known to his household that Laurent’s skin was fussy and sensitive and to make sure he was comfortable outside. Laurent thought of this as the servants brought out a cold soup, a platter of fruits, and a pitcher of water.

He was well into his book by the time Damianos found him with an easy smile on his face. They’d been spending more time together, so Laurent wasn’t surprised by it nor did he feel the need to question Damianos on what he wanted. Damianos seeking him out to just talk to him or see him had become normal.

“A good read?”

The question was asked in Veretian. Since their time in the city they often spoke Veretian in private and it meant a lot to Laurent. There were also moments when Damianos would speak Akielon and Laurent Veretian, and they’d hold a conversation that way, each speaking their own language. Other times, they bounced back and forth between their languages without thought.

“Adequate.”

Damianos sat across from him at the table and refilled Laurent’s glass of water to drink from, inviting himself to join Laurent for lunch. He also pulled the bowl of fruit closer to him and began finishing it off.

“I stopped by our rooms when I finished my bath and found a book and a note waiting on the table there. A servant had dropped it off.”

“Oh?”

“It was a book of love poems from Adonis. He had it put in our rooms…for you.”

It was the most insecure and unsure Damianos ever sounded with him that Laurent felt a little mischievous.

“If you have something on your mind, you should speak it.”

“I didn’t know you and Adonis were close enough to exchange books on love poems.” Damianos’ frown deepened as he spoke and it took everything in Laurent not to laugh.

There was something about Damianos pouting that was endearing to him and he couldn’t help but feel fond exasperation at him. It might have shown on his face. Whatever was showing, Damianos’ expression became that of confusion.

“And if we are? That would bother you?”

“Yes. I’m jealous.”

The shock of the admission, the simplicity of it, threw him so that he couldn’t speak. He looked at Damianos tongue tied for a moment and yet not sure why he was so surprised. Damianos never lied to him, nor did he think to hide things from him, no matter how vulnerable it made him.

“There’s nothing between us outside of a shared interest in literature. I’ve only had one conversation with Adonis alone, at the library when he was picking out that book of poems.”

Damianos’ shoulders relaxed, the topic having made him tense.

“You enjoy poetry then? Love poems?”

“I enjoy all kinds of literature, including poetry and, yes, love poems.”

“I never gave them much thought before,” Damianos said.

“Before?”

“Lately when I look at you, certain ones have come to mind.”

Laurent felt his heart react to that. He felt unsteady as he asked, “Which ones?”

Damianos smiled a bit and slid the book closer to him. Laurent picked it up and noticed that the corners of certain pages were folded down.

There were a lot.

His face heated. He wanted to say something witty back, but nothing came to mind. He was more eager than ever to read the book now, reading every single poem his husband had marked for him. He didn’t notice he had pulled the book closer to himself, when he did he put it on his lap, out of sight.

“I didn’t think you’d be as familiar with this kind of poetry. I know your favorites.”

“They were my favorites. I find my interests have shifted as of late.”

_Because of me?_

He wasn’t bold enough to say that. Not yet.

What was growing between them was delicate and still new.

“I overheard you and Nikandros speaking earlier, about gladiators.”

“Akielos has many great gladiators. One day I’ll show you them.”

“I heard you like to bed them. There was one in particular mentioned. He didn’t last long with you in the ring, but he lasted six hours in your chambers.”

Damianos frowned. “It was seven hours.”

“Perhaps I’m the one who should be jealous,” Laurent said, and was surprised when his voice came out teasing.

“There’s no need. I’d have you in my chambers for as long as you want me.”

Laurent’s breath caught in his throat. Damianos looked at him as if he truly meant it.

A moment passed where they just looked at each other. There was vulnerability in it. Everything showed in Damianos’ eyes. He wondered if it showed in his own as well.

It wasn’t until he broke away and reached for his water, now on Damianos’ side of the table, that his husband said, “I met that gladiator at the summer palace. It’s interesting you brought him up, because I’ve been thinking about taking you there.”

“Planning another trip already?”

“It won’t be for awhile, but it’d be nice for us to have some time alone. Our last trip was me introducing you to important men, this one will be for just us.”

“No gladiators?”

“I can arrange for sports if you’d like, though I had other plans.”

“I’ll pass on the gladiators. Tell me about it. The palace.”

“The gardens there are unmatched. They were my mother’s.” Damianos paused, looking at him almost shyly. “They would be ours now."

“Not your father’s?”

“My father gave my mother the summer palace. After she passed, it became mine. Now it would be ours.”

Laurent’s cheeks warmed at the idea of sharing them sharing it. Damianos was under no obligation to share what was his with him, yet he was, because he _wanted_ to.

That meant something to him.

“He gave her the palace, even though he didn’t love her?”

Damianos frowned. “I’m sure he had love for her, even if he wasn’t in love. They had respect for each other.”

“But you’re not sure.”

“He doesn’t speak of her,” Damen said simply.

“I’ve overheard him speaking of his mistress to Kastor. How much he looks like her, and how much he loved…” Laurent stopped, wondering if he was crossing a line. He looked to Damen, but he didn’t look particularly bothered, hurt, or offended. Instead, he looked curious and wondering. “You’ve never thought to ask? About your mother?”

“I never knew her,” Damen said simply. “I don’t really think of her. Only when I’m at the summer palace, or thinking about that place, do I think of her.”

“I bet you look like her,” Laurent said.

Damen turned to him and smiled. “You think so?”

Laurent shrugged. “I’ve told you before, based on the statues, you have some of her features. And you don’t look much like your father or brother.” Teasingly, he added, “You’re much more handsome.”

He wondered if it was too much, but Damianos’ reaction to being called handsome by him was ridiculous. His face lit up, he smiled widely and said, “You think so?”

“Yes, even though you look ridiculous at being told so. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d never been complimented before.”

“Not by you I haven’t.” Damianos said, “You’re attractive too. I have a hard time keeping my eyes off you when you’re around.”

“I’ve noticed.” Laurent was smiling too. And perhaps it was because of how intimate things had gotten between them, he put the book back on the table and pushed it toward Damianos. With his heart thumping in his chest, he said, “Now read me some of those poems.”

 

 

Damianos spent of lot of his time with Nikandros. Often he invited Laurent, but he wasn’t always in the mood for the extra company and thought it best for Damianos to have some time alone with his old friend and wanted to give that time to them. Even if there was a small part of him that wanted to keep Damianos all to himself, he made sure to smother it, reminded himself he wasn’t a needy child, and gave him space.

Also, he admitted, it was nice to miss him. It made him look forward to having dinner at a crowded table at the end of the day. It made him look forward to seeing Damianos in general, so much so that he felt a rising happiness at the mere sight of him. It was an enjoyable and pleasant feeling.

Damianos looked at him as if the feeling was mutual. He spoke to him about his time with Nikandros and also shared his meetings with his father with him more and more. It was always a discussion. Damianos wanted to know what he thought and valued his input.

When Laurent had time to himself, he visited the stables or the library. He didn’t often stay in the library. People of the court had long since picked up on his fondness for reading and would sometimes peek in there in hopes of getting his attention. Sometimes Laurent indulged them, other times he just grabbed his books of interest and went back to his room. Galene offered to have books sent to his room, but despite it becoming slightly more crowded, he still liked visiting himself and so declined the offer.

When Laurent first came to Ios, and for years before then, he usually read stories about epic adventures, historical, thrillers, and mysteries. Lately, though, he found himself leaving the library with his arms full of romance.

Laurent hadn’t paid much attention to romance stories since he became engaged, but as he read stories about over the top courting, powerful declarations of love, promises of a life together…he remembered how much he had enjoyed them. He especially liked it when romance was added to stories about adventure and fantasy. Stories with handsome heroes who went over and beyond for their love, overcoming all obstacles and proving their devotion.

When he was a child, he imagined finding someone like that. He fantasized about finding his one, great love that made every hardship worth it. Someone who made him feel cherished above everyone, prioritized, safe, open…As he got older he fantasize about waking in strong arms, of passionate kisses in the moonlight, of long walks in the garden full of sweet, whispered nothings.

Then he was passed over to a stranger and it all crumbled.

He remembered when he had returned to Arles after his engagement was made official, how he had bitterly piled all of the romance books he’d kept in his room and told a servant to remove them. It was the only way he could express his unhappiness with the union. Around his family and court, he made sure to hold his true feelings inside. He knew that his marriage was a part of his duty and it wouldn’t look good to stomp his feet and cry about it, nor would it accomplish anything. In time, he managed to convince himself of this and he became reserved to his fate. There was a short time where he hoped Damianos might come to him, to properly court him or at least write to him, as Auguste was doing with his fiancée, but it didn’t happen and he squashed his disappointment.

Now things were different. He felt younger than he had in years, even though that didn’t make sense. His heart felt light and hopeful. He looked forward to his days. He hadn’t dreaded them before, per se, rather he felt nothing. He went through his days as if just going through the motions of living, not feeling much of anything.

He sat on his bed after his visit from the library, his back propped up against the headboard as he read through his new book. It was a lot more explicit than what he’d read as a child. He felt his body react to the text and had to put the book down once the scene ended. The leading character, after a book and a half worth of pining, had made love to his love interest and after the scene had passed, the chapter ended, Laurent thought of his husband.

They had grown closer, but still hadn’t consummated their marriage. Damianos had kissed his cheeks, forehead, and the corners of his mouth, but never direction on the mouth. More and more, he found himself thinking about it.

The thought lingered.

_How would it be?_

Would his husband take him roughly? Flip him over on his stomach and mount?

He suppressed a shiver at the mental image that thought provided. His husband’s weight on his back, pressing his face into the pillow as he fucked him, his mouth marking his neck. It wasn’t an unpleasant thought. There was simplicity there that he thought he might like.

Or would his husband take him on his back? Laurent had slid down from the headboard so that he was laying on his back now. He closed his eyes and imagined it. Would Damianos spread his legs and roll their hips together while they kissed? He lingered on that image and spread his legs on instinct as he did. He would do that for his husband, offer his body to him. Damianos would settle against him and Laurent would bring his legs around him.

Or perhaps – perhaps Damianos would grab him by the ankles and throw his legs over his shoulders and take him that way. It would be deeper, he thought with a shudder of pleasure.

He dug into his memory of the night they were married, trying to remember something that would spark his imagination. They had gone to their room together. Damianos lingered at the entrance to the bedroom as Laurent went straight to the bed, noting the difference to the one in Arles. There was no canopy for privacy. If someone were to walk in, they’d have a clear view of them. That didn’t matter. Laurent had gotten used to the idea that his sex life would be on display as a member of the royal family, though that tradition wasn’t shared among Akielons. There were no witnesses to see their marriage consummated.

He had turned and looked at Damianos. It dawned on Laurent that he hadn’t seen him since they were together with their families negotiating years ago and that was hardly a proper meeting. The first night he truly met Damianos was the night he married him and was expected to be bedded by him. They hadn’t had a chance to be alone together until just then.

Laurent always met his expectations, even when the desire to was dull. Damianos, at least, was incredibly attractive. If things had been different, if he had come to Arles as a friend, Laurent would have been interested. He had felt attraction to men his brother kept company with before as well. Well built men that seemed nice enough, but the attraction was always so fleeting because there was something lacking.

Would it have been that way with Damianos? Would his attraction die out before he could fully enjoy it? He’d never know. He had forced his mind off of it and undressed without a word. He remembered standing bare in front of Damianos, after allowing his new husband to undress him, without shame, watching as Damianos’ eyes began to wander. 

_“Well?”_

Damianos’ eyes went back up to his and the lust was unmistakably there. He undressed quickly and Laurent’s own gaze went down before he could stop himself.

He was aroused and everywhere in proportion.

Damianos walked to him with confidence and took his mouth.

He was a good kisser. Laurent remembered clearly how dazed he felt when Damianos kissed him, pressing him into the mattress underneath him. It had felt good and he liked it. He remembered that.

He remembered Damianos touching him with purpose. He remembered being becoming aroused as they kissed. 

He remembered his hands shaking, his mind being split. He didn’t know what to focus on. There were too many thoughts that entered his mind at once then.

His family. His brother. His home.

His heart felt heavy with all that he was giving up for this stranger.

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

It was frustrating.

Damianos wasn’t shaking. He was confident and experienced, like a true prince. He lived an easy life and was sure of himself. He was no doubt used to bedding inexperienced and experienced lovers alike.

Next to him, Laurent felt inadequate.

He felt himself wilting and he remembered letting out a frustrated breath. He squeezed his eyes tight.

If Damianos just kissed him like he was before again, then he could get it back up.

 _“Kiss me,”_ he almost said it, but he couldn’t get the words to come out.

Damianos had pulled away and looked down at him with his eyebrows pinched together.

Laurent had looked away from him.

This man was a _stranger_.

_I don’t know you._

He didn’t want Damianos to see him at that moment. He had felt vulnerable. It felt more intimate than just letting Damianos fuck him.

_“You don’t want it?”_

He was grinding his teeth. His jaw was already feeling sore from it.

 _“Not tonight then,”_ Damianos had said above him, his voice rough and disappointed.

_Just do it!_

But he didn’t. Damianos had rolled over and went to sleep, offering nothing to Laurent but his bare back.

Laurent felt irrationally angry then. He wanted to shove him off the bed. He turned away from him so he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to look at him.

Now Laurent lay on his bed in his new home and wondered how it would have been had they finished. How would Damianos have felt inside him? Laurent had thought of it before, in the privacy of his bedroom. Laurent wasn’t like…he had a hard time thinking of sex in the way Damianos clearly did. Damianos, who fucked anyone he was attracted to regardless of whether they knew each other or not. Laurent couldn’t do that. He had felt emotionally vulnerable in bed with him, maybe that was one of the reasons why he couldn’t do it, among other things. Sex _meant_ something. Laurent didn’t know how to have sex and have it not mean anything, nor did he want that.

Sex was emotional for him, but not for Damianos.

The memory of his thoughts and feelings at the time ruined it. His body was no longer excited and he laid there with his legs still spread. His hands idle on his thighs as he stared at the white ceiling.

He tried to force his thoughts back on the good parts of that night. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the memory of Damianos kissing him. Laurent remembered what that was like, an easy, pleasurable memory, even more so now that he knew him.

He remembered how good it had felt, to have Damianos’ weight on him, to feel him between his legs, kissing him, deep and slow. Laurent wondered if Damianos would make love that way as well, deep and slow and strong and steady.

It was easy to become aroused under Damianos’ slow kisses and gentle, wandering hands, but every time he pulled away the reality of his situation came rushing back at him. His mind seemed to fixate on what he had felt at the time.

This man he had married was a stranger who meant nothing to him.

He was to leave everything that did mean something to him behind for this man.

 _For my country_ , he soothed himself, and it only half worked. It worked in grounding him, giving him a sense of duty, but it didn’t work in lessening the pain.

Letting out a frustrated noise, he opened his eyes and stopped trying. Sometimes his thoughts just didn’t want to cooperate and today was one of those days.

 _It’s not the same_ , he told himself as he lay still. Things had changed between them. If Damianos came into his room and climbed over him now, kissed him the way Laurent knew he did, it wouldn’t be the same as their wedding night. Damianos wasn’t a stranger anymore.

He was surprised when _that_ fantasy stirred something in him. After a moment of hesitation, he allowed himself to think about a possible present or future situation and left the memory behind. It no longer applied to his relationship with his husband and he just couldn’t focus the way he wanted with it. Instead, he imagined Damianos opening his bedroom door and how he might end up in Laurent’s bed.

Just as he started getting lost in the daydream, a knock came at his door. He smothered an annoyed sound.

 “Laurent?”

Damianos.

Hearing his voice so close to him when he was daydreaming about him didn’t help. He closed his eyes, breathed, calmed his body back down, and then went to answer the door.

“It’s not time for dinner yet,” he said when he opened it.

“Not yet. I was hoping to have some time alone with you before we head to the dining hall.”

There was something about Damianos that was different tonight. Laurent watched him, then realized with delight that Damianos looked and sounded _shy_. His curiosity spiked, as well as a fondness for the man in front of him, who always seemed so sure of himself but could be like this as well.

He felt himself smile as he said, “Anything in particular you want to talk about?”

They moved to the sitting area, where there was cold tea and water waiting for them in pitchers.

“Nikandros was telling me about a woman he’s courting back in Delpha. He’s eager to return to her.”

“You came back to our room to talk about Nikandros’ love life?”

“Not quite. Listening to him just had me thinking, about how I wish things had been different between us.”

_I’ve been thinking that too._

Laurent wasn’t sure if he was ready to admit that much.

He found himself pouring both of their drinks without realizing it. After he was done, he thought about how he’d never done that for another person before. When Damianos thanked him and took the cup, he felt pleased.

“How would things be,” he found himself saying, “if we’d had the time? If we did things the right way?”

“I would have wanted to court you the moment I laid eyes on you. I would have gone to your father immediately, to ask for the right to do so.”

“I doubt he’d deny you. But how would you make it so I wouldn’t?”

“You wouldn’t want me?”

Laurent wasn’t sure he wanted to answer, at first, but Damianos was being honest and open with him, and he found himself wanting to do the same.

“I didn’t…say that.” He thought of what he wanted to say and how to best say it, but this was new to him. He stumbled his words, even in his own mind. There was too much he wanted to say.

Damianos got up from the sofa then, and Laurent felt disappointed when he walked away.

“Where are you—”

Damianos disappeared into his room, and Laurent was left sitting there, frozen as he tried to process what just happened.

Thankfully Damianos didn’t leave his mind to wander, coming back out almost immediately with something small in his hand. Laurent couldn’t tell what it was and had a hard time taking his eyes from it.

“I have something for you,” Damianos said.

He held out a small wooden horse, a child’s toy, and Laurent felt his heart react to it. He knew what this meant. He had spent years studying Akielon culture and even though he was already promised to his husband, he still read up on courting customs. One of them was giving away a cherished and well kept childhood toy.

His husband was offering more than just the toy.

When they got married their hearts had remained their own. Love wasn’t necessary in a marriage, especially a political one, but there was a possibility it could grow in one. For Theomedes and Egeria, romantic love had been impossible. Theomedes had already given his heart to his mistress and had no room for anyone else. Their marriage had been held together by mutual respect. He had thought his own marriage with Damianos would be the same.

But now Damianos was offering Laurent something more. He was offering his heart.

If Laurent accepted his gift, he would be opening up his own. He would be acknowledging that their marriage wasn’t just a political one, that something more was growing between them.

Damianos didn’t rush him, his eyes searching, then lighting up when Laurent’s hands lifted to accept his gift. Physically, it was light, but it was also heavy with meaning.

The way Damianos looked at him still felt new, and so warm he felt like melting into him. 

“It was the only gift my mother gave me. It was made when she was pregnant with me. It’s the only thing from my childhood I kept. I’m not one for sentimental items. But that’s the only thing I have from my mother, so…”

“Thank you,” he said. _I will cherish this_ , he thought.

The desire to pull Damianos down to him pulsed through him.

Instead, he said, “Kiss me.”

The words came out without thought, and his face heated at it. The moment seemed right. He didn’t want to have to think back on a night that wasn’t all that pleasant just to remember how his husband kissed. That night didn’t reflect how he felt now.

Damianos knelt down in front of him. Seeing Damianos on his knee was jarring with how unnatural it looked, but then he was cupping Laurent’s face and his mind became blank.

He closed his eyes. He could feel Damianos’ breath. Then it was happening, and he couldn’t do anything but feel the soft brush of lips against his own and his heart beating like a drum. He tilted his head, his own lips parting as his breath shuddered out of him, and he leaned forward until their lips touched again.

The kiss was teasingly soft. Laurent wanted to press closer, to open his mouth and be kissed more deeply, but he also wanted to go slow.

His hands came up to press against Damianos’ chest and just as Damianos was about to deepen the kiss, they were interrupted and broke apart quickly.

“Dinner is ready, your highness,” a servant said, bowing deeply in their doorway.

Laurent’s breathing was more shallow than he expected. He didn’t respond to the servant, knowing he’d sound breathless if he did.

“Thank you, now leave us,” Damianos said, and the servant bowed a little deeper before turning and leaving them alone again.

When Damianos turned back to him, Laurent knew he’d be more than willing to continue, but Laurent wanted a moment to think. His mind had been completely blank of everything but where he wanted to touch and how he wanted to be kissed and he wasn’t…used to that.

He stood without thinking, then said, “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

 

 

At the end of Nikandros stay there were sports. Laurent didn’t enjoy partaking in sports very much, not that he’d ever had much opportunity. But he was honest enough with himself to admit he liked watching Damianos perform. Every time Damianos entered a sport he won, and every time he won his eyes found Laurent’s, grinning and glowing and yet seemingly looking for approval. Laurent wasn’t sure how he looked, but whatever Damianos saw seemed to please him, so he didn’t think on it.

Laurent never took his eyes off Damianos. He wanted to be caught staring. And Damianos was all too happy to catch him.

When the wrestling started, Laurent almost choked on his water. Damianos disrobed in front of everyone and let his body be oiled, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Laurent’s mind filled with far too many ideas of an oiled Damianos in private.

They hadn’t kissed or gone any further since Damianos gave him his childhood toy. He had been so caught up in the meaning of it. He wanted to be kissed again, but there hadn’t been much alone time outside of when they slept. Laurent had gone to bed that night sure Damianos would come to him, but then he fell asleep.

He wasn’t sure how to feel watching Damianos wrestle another naked, oiled man to the ground. He wanted to replace that other man, wanted the other man and everyone else to disappear so they could be alone. Before he could process how he felt, Damianos already won. The man hadn’t even lasted a minute against him, like most of his opponents.

There was something undeniably thrilling about that.

After the games was a feast and drinks. Damianos drank wine, but Laurent remained sober. The more Damianos drank, the more Laurent knew nothing would happen between them that night. Instead of thinking about what might have happened otherwise, he sought Nikandros.

“I want you to teach me how to wrestle,” Laurent said.

Nikandros was taken aback at the abruptness of it. He gave him a measuring look, taking in his form, then said, “You won’t excel at it.”

Laurent knew not to let the comment offend him, even if it was insulting in nature. He let it roll off him, and made sure Nikandros saw in his lack of response how little his words meant to him. Nikandros straightened.

Nikandros asked, “Are you asking or telling me?”

“Feel free to imagine the answer of your choice. I’m not going to waste time tip toeing around your pride.”

“Why do you want to learn? You won’t even bathe with us, but you’ll perform wrestling?”

“You misunderstand. I have no desire to take part in wrestling with an audience, nor do I intend to take my clothes off when you teach me. I’d also have you remain dressed as well. The idea of rolling around naked and oiled with you holds no appeal to me.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Nikandros drawled, looking just a bit irritated. He was just as good at hiding his emotions as Damianos, but he was better at controlling them. “You still haven’t answered why?”

“It’s my husband’s favorite sport.”

“You want to learn for Damen?” Nikandros gave him a doubtful look.

Laurent felt a quick throb of jealousy in him. _Damen_. Laurent had yet to refer to Damianos this way, yet Nikandros said it so casually. Every time Nikandros referred to Damianos, it was a reminder that they were close friends, that they had known each other a long time.

It was a strange thing. To have someone use his husband’s name for intimates to him when he himself had yet to.

He pushed all of that aside.

“Yes, I am. And you’re not going to tell him. Are we done now? Meet me first thing in the morning, before everyone wakes. I want this to be discreet.”

He left without waiting for an answer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping everything up in this chapter. I’ll have an epilogue next and then that’s it for Home. :’))
> 
> I’ve done a chapter where I channeled The Adventures of Charls…this chapter I channeled The Summer Palace (as well as other parts of canon) lol.

Laurent got a summons from Theomedes’ to have tea with him in his private chambers. He made sure to be exactly on time, knowing better than to leave the King waiting. He was also curious as to what he could want to speak about.

Since arriving in Akielos, Theomedes’ showed little to no interest in him, as did Kastor. Laurent only ever saw them at the dinner table, where he was sure to greet them and bid them goodnight as was proper. He also sat with them during as they watched sports, but there wasn’t much talking there. Truth be told, Laurent spend most of the time with his eyes glued to Damianos as his mind filled with fantasies that weren’t appropriate to share with his husband’s family.

When he opened the doors to Theomedes’ chambers, escorted by a woman from his father-in-law’s household, he saw the King already sitting at the table waiting for him.

“Laurent.”

“Exalted,” Laurent said, not quite sure what to call him. He _could_ refer to Theomedes’ as father, but he didn’t feel comfortable with that.

Thankfully, Theomedes’ didn’t ask it of him, instead he gave him permission to call him by name.

“You may use my name. Have a seat.”

He didn’t say ‘please, have a seat’ or gesture towards the seat. Theomedes’ spoke as someone used to being in a position of power. He didn’t ask for anything, nor did he give directions on how one was to obey him or look to make sure he was being obeyed. He expected to be heard and understood, and to hear no words against him.

The table he sat at was round and small. It was a table to be shared among people who were familiar with each other. Sharing the table with a man who was still a stranger to him felt wrong, but of course he had no choice but to accept.

A servant poured their tea for them, then bowed low and made herself scarce.

“I’ve called for you because I thought we should make the time to get to know one another,” Theomedes’ said. “My son is far more taken with you than I expected.”

Laurent couldn’t help but ask, “Has he spoken with you about me?” The idea of Damianos speaking about him with anyone made him giddy. He wanted to soak up every sweet word Damianos spoke of him like a sponge.

He supposed in that sense he wasn’t much different than Damianos himself. He knew how much his husband enjoyed gossip about himself, specifically when it was flattering, despite frowning upon gossip as a concept in general, thinking it ill mannered.

“Not so much at first, but more and more he has started to mention you. The last I spoke to him, he announced to me that he plans to make you King alongside him.”

Laurent had expected to be told flowery gossip about him. Perhaps a declaration of devotion or love, but this was far more than he ever thought to expect. Theomedes’ gave him a moment to absorb the weight of it.

Laurent had never expected to be King. He was the second born. He always knew his brother would be the King of Vere and that he would support him in every way he could, then he was put it an arranged marriage with the crowned Prince of Akielos, and he thought he’d be nothing more than a consort.

“You will be expected to give a formal announcement to the people. There’s no rush, but there needs to be enough time before Damianos is crowned, so that you can prove to the people you’re worthy of being their King and not just the King’s consort.”

“But before then, I have to show _you_ I’m worthy.”

“Yes.”

If there was one thing Laurent had come to appreciate about his new family, it was that they didn’t hide behind the bush. Theomedes’ had the same straight forwardness as Damianos.

Theomedes’ greatly valued the okton, due to the start of his house, and Laurent already planned to win it. If he could do that, he knew he’d win the respect of Theomedes’ as well as other Akielon men and women, who all valued athleticism.

More than anything, he wanted to see Damianos’ expression when he won.

There were other things Laurent intended to do to prove his worth, but that was the first that came to mind. And he would plan everything out, so that when the time came for Damianos to be crowned his father in law would be proud to have the crown passed to the both of them.

 

 

Learning wrestling from Nikandros gave them both respect for each other. Nikandros was a patient teacher and, surprisingly, very professional. Laurent could tell right away that he wasn’t the only one Nikandros had taught. They met early in the morning, just before the sun rose, and practiced until the sun was high in the sky. Sometimes, Laurent would have them stop for water and he’d think about how nice it would be to watch the sun rise with Damianos.

It was Nikandros’ last day in Ios. He had plans with Damianos later and Laurent didn’t intend to intrude or to see him after, so he got in one last wrestling practice after. Once they were done, Nikandros unhooked his chiton from his shoulders and wiped himself off with a towel.

During the practice, Laurent found himself wishing for Veretian clothing for the first time in awhile. Feeling Nikandros’ bare skin against his as they wrestled wasn’t the most comfortable feeling, but he did start to get used to it enough to not think about it.

The games had ended the day before. Damianos won at wrestling and the okton, which Laurent had been told he wouldn’t attend that year as he had never thrown a spear before. Laurent tried to insist that he would be fine, but when Theomedes’ decided against it (he probably didn’t want Laurent to embarrass himself and therefore Damianos) no one said another word.

 _“Next time,”_ Damianos had promised him. Laurent couldn’t help but feel cheated when Damianos was crowned, feeling as if he should have gotten the chance to earn that alongside him, but shoved it aside and clapped for him. After, he pulled him aside and kissed him. As much as he wanted to kiss Damianos in front of everyone, he knew public displays of affection were frowned upon. Normally he wouldn’t care, but since Theomedes’ was there he decided to abide to their customs concerning affection. This time.

Kastor played some of the sports as well, but avoided Damianos. He only played the sports and games Damianos didn’t.

When Nikandros sat next to him on the bench and drank from his water, Laurent decided to bring that up.

“He never joins in the okton, nor does he challenge Damen anymore. Not since Damen became better than him.”

“Rather insecure for an older brother.”

“He’s been that way since Damen hit his growth spurt. When he was a child, Kastor was different. Perhaps the reality of his circumstances didn’t fully hit him. Not that I have any sympathy for him. Being the bastard son of the King and the brother of the crowned Prince, and a Prince himself, still gives him a lot of privileges and opportunities,” Nikandros said, the last bit wasn’t without bitterness.

“You’re jealous of him,” Laurent stated.

Nikandros scoffed. “What would Kastor have for me to be jealous about?”

“You know that when Damianos becomes King he’d rather Kastor at his side as an advisor than anyone. Kastor, in all his spite and anger, is still loved by Damianos. Kastor’s a trusted older brother whose words Damianos is likely to listen to.”

“Damen never listens to me,” Nikandros admitted. “He’s so blind to his brother, even though his brother gave him that scar when he was a boy. He’s convinced, just like his father, that it was an accident.”

 _They’re both fools_ , Laurent thought, and he felt it on the tip of Nikandros’ tongue, but he would never insult his King and Prince in the same breath.

Nikandros then asked, “Will you try and talk Damen out of having Kastor as an advisor?”

“Of course,” Laurent said. “It’s too early now. What we have…it still needs time to grow.” He didn't meet Nikandros' eyes. Talking about what he had with Damianos was too new and he didn’t know how to handle how vulnerable it made him feel.

“He’ll listen to you, when you’ve decided it’s time,” Nikandros said, but he didn’t sound all that happy to admit it. If anything he sounded resigned. A man who was jealous of his best friend’s brother and whose advice was never heeded or even considered.

“You make a better brother to him than Kastor,” Laurent said. He wasn’t sure if it could be considered kind or not.

“I know that. I would die for him. But it makes no difference. I don’t have the trust Kastor has, nor has he ever looked at me the same as his brother. You should have seen him when he was a child. He followed Kastor around like a duckling. He looked at him with admiration and has always wanted his approval.”

Laurent imagined it for a moment. A young Damianos following his brother around, wanting his attention. It wasn’t hard to imagine.

“Damianos would give his life for you too,” Laurent said, sure of this.

“And you,” he said. “The problem is that he’d die for Kastor, but Kastor would sooner kill Damen himself than die for him.”

“He won’t.”

“Because of you?”

“Yes.” Laurent watched the clouds move in the sky as he said, “I’d give my life for him, and for the people of Akielos.”

And he closed his eyes, feeling the truth of that.

 

                                                            

Nikandros left early the next morning. Laurent had said his goodbyes the day before, so he said nothing that morning. He stood to the side and watched as Damianos hugged his friend goodbye and sent him off.

He would have thought Damianos would be sad to see his friend go, but he didn’t show it at all. Damianos was a man who lived in the present and gave his attention to the people around him. He didn’t live in the past or with people who had left. Laurent couldn’t understand it, but he thought he liked that about him. He did wonder, though, if that meant Damianos didn’t think of _him_ when they were apart. He was honest enough with himself to admit he didn’t like that thought so much.

He thought of Damianos more and more as the days passed.

After Nikandros’ departure, Damianos came to him more frequently.

“Now that Nikandros is gone you should have more free time,” Laurent said.

“For you?”

“You want to give me your time?” He already knew the answer. Still, it was nice to hear it, to have Damianos say it.

“You should know by now that I’ve always made time for you, no matter how busy my day.”

Laurent let that in and remembered the short visits, where Damianos would find him to speak for a short time before being called away. It had felt like friendship, but that wasn’t entirely true. That wasn’t all that they were.

“It’s hot today,” Laurent said, and saw Damianos’ eyebrows raise at the change of topic.

“You want to go for a swim?”

“I think I’d rather bathe. The day’s not even half over and I’m already covered in sweat.” It wasn’t that bad, really, but Damianos looked too disappointed to comment on it, no doubt thinking Laurent was already taking leave of him. If Laurent’s stomach wasn’t full of nerves he might have smiled at how endearing it was.

“I was thinking,” he continued before Damianos could say anything, “that I’d like you to join me today.”

“In the baths?” Damianos said slowly, uncertain but no doubt hopeful.

“Unless you have an objection?”

“I don’t,” Damianos said, his voice lowering.

Without another word, Laurent turned and led the way to the baths. Damianos didn’t follow behind him, rather, he quickened his step until they were side to side, then he took Laurent’s hand in his. Laurent was sure Damianos could feel his pulse.

The baths were in an open room, but were empty of anyone else. When they entered, Laurent let go of Damianos’ hand and turned to face him. Then he unpinned Damianos’ chiton.

“I’ve told the servants to give us privacy,” he said as his eyes instinctively dropped with his husband’s chiton. Damianos didn’t comment on it or try and move away from the moment. He simply let himself be looked at. He did nothing to hide that he was already half aroused, unashamed as always.

“You’re well built and in proportion.”

“You already knew that,” Damianos said as he reached for Laurent’s hand. He brought it up and placed a gentle kiss on his palm.

“Undress me.”

Damianos’ lips lingered on his skin, then moved to kiss his pulse. Then he was undressing him.

Laurent was aware of Damianos’ eyes on him as his body was revealed to him. It wasn’t the first time he’d been naked with Damianos, yet it felt far more intimate and significant. He was _choosing_ to show Damianos’ his body, unlike their wedding night when he felt obligated, and he _liked_ it. He felt his body respond to Damianos’ taking him in. A short fantasy of Damianos coming forward and pulling their bodies together flash in his mind.

The moment felt personal, both of them bare before each other by their own choice and desire. They stood close enough that they could feel each other’s breath.

“Do you think of me when we’re not together?”

“Always,” Damianos said.

“When Nikandros left, I thought you’d feel his loss for awhile, but you showed no signs of it.”

“I felt it when I embraced him and as I watched him go, but it’s not in my nature to hold onto those feelings for long. It’s not as if I won’t see him again, and I’m used to us living apart.” Damianos said it offhandedly, but his eyes softened as he said, “It’s different with you. I can’t stop thinking about you, even when I try.”

Laurent could feel the kiss before it happened, the anticipation of it, and still he felt his breath leave him when their mouths pressed together. Damianos’ hands came up to cup his face, gentle, always gentle. He kissed Laurent as if he were someone to be cherished with everything he had. Laurent’s own hands went to Damianos’ chest.

And then he pushed Damianos into the cold bath and laughed when he came up gasping.

He moved when Damianos made to grab for his ankle, and then when Damianos’ came out of the bath to grab at him again he countered. It didn’t take long for Damianos to have him pinned to the floor, but he let Laurent show him everything he learned first. He could tell Damianos was a mix of curious and pleased. There was a smile on his face as he hovered over him, though it soon turned down.

“Who taught you to wrestle?”

“Stop frowning. It was only Nikandros.”

To Laurent’s amusement, that only made Damianos frown deeper.

“Why ask him? I’m better.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Laurent laughed and, because Damianos’ pout was too cute, pushed his head up to kiss him. “We weren’t naked or oiled.”

Damianos was silent for a moment, then said, “Is that why you brought him up earlier? You miss him?”

“I never thought it would ever need to be said, but you don’t give yourself enough credit. I only wanted to know if you think of me as much as I think of you.”

At that, Damianos’ lips turned upward.

“You think of me?”

“A frustrating amount.”

Damianos’ mouth widened even further and he looked positively _giddy_.

“Stop that,” Laurent said, though he found himself smiling too, “and let me up.”

“I don’t know what’s worse. You pushing me in the cold bath or pushing me in a bath before my body was washed.”

“Let me make up for it,” Laurent said as he grabbed a sponge. “I’ll wash you.”

At first Damianos looked at him as if he didn’t understand what he’d just said. When Laurent began washing him, he was mostly quiet. The few words they spoke to each other were hushed and private. It was unusual for a prince to serve another. Laurent wasn’t behaving as someone of his station, but he didn’t care. He _wanted_ to do this. He wanted to care for this man in this way. He wanted Damianos to know that he was the only man he’d ever do this for. He knew Damianos didn’t expect it of him, would never ask it of him, even after this, and that was why he wanted to do it. Damianos would consider receiving this an honor, and Laurent felt honored.

When Laurent moved to wash the front of his upper body, Damianos leaned forward and caught him with a soft kiss. Laurent’s hands were pressed against his chest, one holding the sponge.

He was aware Damianos had become aroused through the washing.

“Overconfident,” Laurent said when they parted. “Perhaps I should have felt more nervous of the danger, bathing with you.”

“I want you. You’ve always known that.”

“And yet my back has hit the marble before your bed.”

Damianos’ eyes darkened as he said, “My bed has always been open to you.”

“And how many others?”

“No one else.”

“Oh?”

“Not for awhile now.” He got a little closer to him as he said, “And you know that too.” He felt his husband’s hands cup his face, he was so gentle with him, and tilt his head up to look at him. “I’ve given you my heart. I trust you to take care of it.”

Laurent closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Damen’s jaw. “Yes.”

Damianos took the sponge from Laurent and returned the favor, washing Laurent’s body. He was a bit more…amorous than Laurent had been, often pressing his lips to the wet skin before soaping it, to his shoulder, his arms, his wrists, and even his inner thighs. It was impossible for Laurent to control his breathing, or the beat of his heart.

Seeing Damianos kneel for him as he washed his legs and feet wasn’t a sight he ever thought he’d see, even though he’d just done it himself. It was a statement. When they were together, they weren’t princes, they were lovers, and they were equals. Laurent felt no shame in kneeling for his husband and looking at Damianos who nuzzled his thigh as he looked up at him, he saw no shame in him either.

After, they soaked together in the warm bathes, and Laurent allowed Damianos’ hands to wander. It was an indulgence to be touched by him. Laurent’s own hands hesitant as they came to rest on his husband’s chest, unmoving as he tilted his head back so that Damianos could better kiss his neck.

They didn’t go any farther than kisses or wandering hands, despite their arousal, and Laurent enjoyed the restraint of it. Damianos looked at him as if he wanted to take him. He was thinking of it. Laurent encouraged it, but took it no further.

Damianos’ eyes and hands were only on him and it was a luxury he wanted to thoroughly enjoy.

 

 

Laurent wondered how ridiculous they looked the rest of the day, but he didn’t care.

Damianos followed him as if being led by an invisible string. Laurent wasn’t much better, often pulling Damianos’ attention back to him whenever anyone tried to take it away. They teased and flirted and, to Laurent’s pleasure, Damianos grabbed and held his hand as they walked the halls. He did so nervously, his smile a little shy, and Laurent thought it was endearing.

Laurent wanted to shower his husband in gifts and flowers. He wanted to give him anything he asked for, so after dinner, during drinks and the entertainment, he said, “Ask me for something.”

Damianos smiled as a servant filled his wine glass. “What sort of thing should I ask for?”

“Anything you like.”

Damianos thought of it, then said, “Kiss me goodnight before bed.”

Laurent let out a short, breathy laugh. “I’ve given you plenty of kisses today.”

“But never before bed.”

“Alright,” Laurent said as he leaned back in his chair. “As soon as you’re ready to retire then.”

“I’m ready.”

Damianos set down his wine, untouched, and excused them.

 

 

They walked to their room hand in hand, and when the door closed, Laurent felt his stomach knot with nerves. Inexperienced, he wasn’t sure how to proceed, or whose room they should go to. Damianos had said earlier that his bed was open to him, but it had been off limits for so long.

“Goodnight,” Damianos said, drawing his attention back to him. Smiling and taking the hint, Laurent reached up and dug his fingers in his husband’s curls and brought his head down. It was a sweet kiss, but the desire from the baths had been buzzing beneath his skin all day and he wanted more. Before he could deepen the kiss, his husband pulled away and placed one more on his forehead.

“Thank you.”

And then left Laurent to go to his room.

Laurent stared at his closed door, his mind in tangles.

_What?_

Did Damianos…not want to proceed further? Laurent hadn’t expected to be faced with a closed door. Was he to follow him in, or did Damianos want to be left alone to process? That didn’t sound like him. Damianos was a simple man who enjoyed partaking in the simple pleasure of bedding whoever he liked. Why should tonight be any different, now that Laurent was to be on the receiving end of his husband’s attentions?

He felt frustrated by his own hesitance. He wasn’t some stranger who needed to be openly invited, he was Damianos’ husband. What belonged to Damianos belonged to him.

With that thought in mind, he opened the door and saw his husband waiting for him.

“I was wondering if you would join me tonight.”

“It’s not like you to lure people to your room. Don’t you lead lovers by the hand?”

“You’re different. I wanted you to come in on your own, without me. I want this to be your own choice.”

“I’ve long since made my choice. Have I not been obvious?”

“Kiss me.”

They had been inching closer. It happened slowly, gradually. Time seemed to stand still as Laurent brought their mouths together. The first kiss was barely anything, but Laurent felt his heart react powerfully to it, in a way it hadn’t their first night together.

The kiss they shared on the day of their wedding had been an empty thing. It was as if they were actors performing a part rather than lovers.

Now it was different. Everything was different. He had changed so much since then. His heart beat and moved in ways it never had before. He found himself short of breath for reasons that were still new, and more times than he cared to admit.

Damianos’ hand came up to his jaw, his touch tender as he angled for a deeper, _better_ kiss. Laurent felt his breath shudder out of him as he grabbed onto the front of Damianos’ chiton. His hands were shaking and he did nothing to try and hide it.

Damianos gave himself to kissing him properly, taking control of it, his heart was too big for his chest when he felt himself pushed back on the bed.

He felt vulnerable, but it was different than before.

He was safe.

They broke apart and Laurent looked at him and thought: _I know you._

Their hands worked at removing each other’s clothes, laying kisses to each other’s skin as it was revealed to them. Laurent allowed his hands to explore his husband’s body in a way he hadn’t in the baths. Shuddering as he felt Damianos respond to it against his thigh as he lay along him.

_I know you._

Laurent’s own body was responding to Damianos’ kisses and the feel of him. He shifted underneath him, parting his thighs so they fit together, letting out a small sound of pleasure as their hips rolled.

Damianos took his time, his movements unhurried, as if he could spend all night pleasuring Laurent’s body with his own.

His husband moved to his neck at the same time his hand went to his chest, dragging roughly over his nipple.

And because he knew him, he gasped out, “ _Damen_.”

His husband groaned, hips jerking in response and Laurent was desperate to feel him.

“Fuck me,” Laurent growled, having little control over his voice. “Haven’t we waited long enough?”

“Too long,” Damen said in his neck. “I’ve wanted you from the start.”

“Then take me.”

“There’s no rush. We have all night.”

_And morning?_

When Damen moved down his body, Laurent had to grip the sheets to keep from coming. His legs lifted on their own, heels resting on Damen’s back.

Blindly, he reached toward the bedside table and found a bottle of oil, tossing it toward Damen as he kissed down his inner thigh.

Their eyes met, and then his head was falling back as he felt the press of a finger. Damen spread and looked at him, and Laurent didn’t want anyone else to ever lay eyes on him in this way.

_Damen, Damen, Damen._

He welcomed Damen’s body when he moved up, kissing him again in the way he must have known Laurent liked and needed. They spoke privately to each other, whispers of what they meant to each other, of how it felt. And when Damen finally, finally slid inside, Laurent whimpered, “ _yes_ ,” and their bodies were completely pressed flush together.

They had come so far. Their wedding night felt worlds away, as if in another life all together. That night, that was empty of love and full of loss, had no place in their bed now.

“ _Laurent_ ,” Damen said, his voice mirroring how Laurent felt: desperate, vulnerable, and heart completely at the other’s mercy.

When he came, it was with Damen’s name on his lips, as if he meant everything.

He did.

 

 

The first thing Laurent noticed when he woke up the next morning was that he could still feel the sensation of what they had done. He liked it. He liked the feel of it, the ache of where their bodies had connected. He was surprised at his own response to it, and that he wanted to experience it again. Soon.

Damen was a generous lover. He made love like how he did everything else, sure and strong. Having Damen’s body over him, the strength in it, Laurent _really_ liked that.

He was tempted to wake his husband up, but he looked peaceful sleeping next to him. Laurent had never seen Damen asleep. He lay on his stomach with his head turned toward him. Laurent resisted touching his face or moving his curls back from his forehead. Damen looked gorgeous in the morning sun. He was surprised to find that he itched to touch him, even after a night of his hands being everywhere.

Instead, he took in Damen’s room for the first time. It was simple, with a lot of space. His husband, it seemed, was a minimalist with few items of his own. There were some books that he would be sure to sift through, as well as some decorative items here and there, such as a painting of the sea and cliffs and a gold vase that had been painted. He wanted to look at the details on the vase. It looked as if there was a story to it.

There wasn’t much more he could see of personal value, his husband not being one for material items. He had known that and didn’t dwell on it. He did wonder where his toy horse had been. Perhaps on a bookshelf? Laurent had a short fantasy of moving his possessions into Damen’s room and putting the horse there.

 “You can nose around if you’d like.”

He turned back to his husband who was awake and watching him. He found himself smiling, blushing even as he felt light and happier than he had in a long time.

“I will. Later.”

Laurent pushed Damen on his back and pressed himself on top of him. They kissed in the morning sun and he made a pleased sound when Damen’s hands smoothed down his back and cupped his cheeks, pressing their hips together.

Later, he lay in Damen’s arms with his head on his chest.

“You’re bolder in the morning than I thought you’d be.”

“How did you think I’d be? Did you expect me to behave as a shy innocent, blushing in the blankets at being seen in the morning light?”

“You were blushing when I caught you looking around my room.”

Laurent felt his face heat at the reminder.

“I’m not as experienced as you,” Laurent said.

“It shows.”

“Do you tease all of your lovers like this?”

“No. Only you.” Damianos said with a playful grin, then leaned down and took his mouth, then Laurent was the one being pushed on his back as Damen explored much more of his body with his mouth and tongue, until Laurent was gasping and arching against him.

After, they lay side by side, Damen’s fingers lazily trailing along Laurent’s arm and leg without purpose. Laurent was overwhelmed with how right it felt. To lounge in bed with Damen after a night of lovemaking, exchanging pleasure and indulging in pillow talk.

“I like this. Spending the morning in bed,” Laurent said.

“We should do it often then.”

“You think you’ll want me every morning?”

“I’ve wanted you this whole time,” Damianos said.

“Even though you took other lovers?”

“Because I couldn’t have you.”

“You could have. I wouldn’t have turned you away.”

“But you wouldn’t have wanted it, not like last night.” A pause. “I’m glad we waited.”

Laurent smiled softly, “Me too.”

Damianos called for breakfast soon after, for a platter of food and water. They ate in bed, still unclothed, and to Laurent’s joy, they spoke in Veretian.

“You spoke it when we made love,” Damen said, and Laurent didn’t bother hiding his blush, knowing Damen was fond if it.

“You spoke Akielon. It sounded more broken than when I started learning.”

Damen brushed his hair behind his ear, and Laurent leaned into the touch.

“Last night…it was new to me too. Everyone’s different, but I’ve never felt anything like what I feel with you. It was…”

“Intense,” Laurent said.

“Yes.”

“It’s…not usually like that?”

“No. Never.”

Laurent was glad to hear it. He laid down on his back, done with the food. He felt Damen lay next to him, his hand resting on Laurent’s stomach. He smiled at the casual touch.

“I’m moving my things in today.”

“I’ll tell the servants.”

“What should we do with my old room? We should change it into something else. Perhaps get rid of the bed and make it into another sitting room.”

“You sure you don’t want to keep the bed for nights when you want to be away from me?”

Damen’s voice wasn’t serious, but Laurent still said, “No. I have no need to sleep in that room any longer.”

He turned his head and looked at Damen, who was smiling warmly at him.

“I’m where I want to be.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [tenderkings](https://twitter.com/tenderkings)


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